


That Which Binds Them

by Flarrow



Series: Love, Time and Fate [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Green Arrow - All Media Types, The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, Dark, Drama, M/M, Non-Canonical Character Death, Not Canon Compliant, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Time Loop, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:51:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 52,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3835978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flarrow/pseuds/Flarrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone is born with a mark shared by their soulmate, located somewhere around their shoulder blade.  They say the mark burns upon meeting one's soulmate.  Oliver knows what his is, but doesn't believe in the system.  Barry doesn't know what his looks like, but he wants it to be a surprise.  </p><p>Set in <i>The Flash</i> and <i>Arrow</i> universes, but AU in the sense that I'm not sticking to the storyline laid out in either series, though I may borrow elements when they work for the story.  Barry and Oliver are still The Flash and Arrow.  Idea of the mark's location was inspired by the brand Oliver received in “The Fallen.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kyleigh_Carvalho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyleigh_Carvalho/gifts).



> I have no idea how long this is going to be, and I sure as hell hope I can finish it, lol. The worst thing would be to end up with the same problem I've been having with my main account, and that's encountering severe writer's block. Meep! At the very least, I think I know where I'm going for the most part, the key is just getting there.
> 
> Thought it would be more fun to write a soulmate story with a darkish storyline. Rating and/or tags will likely be updated as I go. Hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> Requested by Kyleigh_Carvalho. Hopefully I'm able to do your prompt justice.

Lightning crackled and thunder boomed overhead. The clouds seemed as dark and angry as they'd been the day that Barry had first received his powers.

Dressed in civilian clothing, Barry bent forward into a running stance, flexing his hands at his sides. He stared intently at the empty expanse ahead of him, the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He barely felt the rain, even though it was pouring down in buckets. All he could focus on was his self-tasked mission. He was so concentrated, in fact, that he didn't hear the screech of tires that pulled up behind him, nor did he pay any mind to the blonde who popped out of the car with an umbrella.

“ _Barry! What do you think you are doing?!”_

He ignored the shouts and closed his eyes. He slowly clenched his fists one last time.

“ _Barry...! Stop!”_

Tears flowed out from the corner of his eyes, commingling with the streams of rain sliding down his face. Barry took in several deep breaths. The sound of the voice grew closer and he heard the patter of footsteps against wet concrete. He knew he was running out of time.

“ _Barry—no!”_

In that moment, there was one thought that rang clearly in Barry's mind. _Run._

Just as he felt the ghosting of fingertips along the backside of his arm, Barry opened his eyes and shot forward, bolting as fast as he'd done only one other time before. This time, however, he knew full well what he was doing, what the consequences could be, and what the side effects were.

He let out a roar of adrenaline when he felt both the familiar burn of the mark on his shoulder and the sensation of the entire world around him slowly melting away. As much as he wanted to stop running, Barry refused to let the excruciating pain overtake him. He ran as fast as he could, towards a familiar building, and once he made it there, he zipped his way up the stairs.

Then there was a burst of white light, and soon Barry was faced with a previous iteration of himself, who stared back at him, awestruck. It lasted for only a second before that version of him disappeared, and he found himself standing in the room alone.

Breathing harshly, Barry's lips gradually settled into a firm line as he turned to look out the window, knowing what was to come. This time, he was ready for the sharp pierce of lightning that would throw him back into a coma for nine months.


	2. All Roads Begin Somewhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I often have the habit of starting stories _in media res_. This chapter takes place before the prologue and the story will eventually lead up to those events, just as a heads up to all readers.
> 
> Also, I am amazed by how much support this fic has already garnered! Thanks to everyone who kudoed or commented for their vote of confidence, even with only such a short first chapter to start! Hope readers enjoy this chapter as well!

Barry's mother was the one that had taught him about the soulmate marks. He had first noticed hers whilst taking a bath with her, as a young child. Barry remembered touching his mother's mark with his fingers.

“ _Mommy, what's that?”_

His mother had reached over and gently placed her hand atop his before smiling over her shoulder at him.

“ _It's...sort of a birthmark, honey.”_

“ _Oh,”_ Barry remembered saying and scrunching his nose a bit. _“A birthmark...do I have one too?”_

His mother had turned around completely then and lifted him onto her lap. He remembered giggling happily as she placed her hands on either side of her face.

“ _Yes, Barry, you do,”_ she'd told him. _“And so does your father. In fact? His is the same as mine is.”_

Barry had tilted his head to the side. _“_ _The same? How, Mommy?”_

Nora Allen had chuckled softly then. _“_ _Oh dear...how do I explain this to you? Let's see..._ _well,_ _everybody in the world is born with one,_ _and_ _every person has someone out there that matches.”_

“ _Is that_ _good_ _...?”_ Barry had asked his mother then. _“Matching?”_

His mother had nodded. _“_ _Yes. Yes it is, Barry._ _It's very good._ _I hope one day you find_ _the person_ _that yours matches.”_

“ _Why, Mommy?”_

“ _Because,”_ his mother said, smiling. _“That means you've met your soulmate, honey.”_

Barry remembered frowning. _“Soulmate...? What's that?”_

His mother had laughed. _“_ _I'll explain that one when you're a bit older, sweetie._ _It will probably make more sense then.”_

“ _Mm...okay!”_

He had squealed with delight when his mother ruffled his hair affectionately.

“ _Would you like me to tell you what yours looks like?”_ his mother had asked him.

Barry had clapped his hands over his ears and shook his head while laughing. _“No! No! Don't tell me!_ _I want it to be a surprise!”_

His mother had looked at him with great fondness reflected in her eyes. _“_ _Well, aren't you just the little romantic?”_

“ _What's a romantic?”_

His mother's response was drowned out by the loud sound of incessant beeping, and suddenly Barry found his eyes flying open and he immediately rose to a sitting position in his bed. Groaning, he rubbed at his face and then leaned over to smack off his obnoxious alarm clock. It was 5:43 in the morning, and he was probably going to be late. He needed to be at the precinct by six, and it was definitely going to take him at least fifteen to twenty minutes to get ready.

He stumbled his way into the bathroom, wincing a little after he switched on the light. He began rushing through the motions of turning on the faucet and washing his face with some water, then quickly brushing his teeth while at the same time sifting through his closet to find a decent change of clothes. He then hurriedly gathered all that he needed for work and walked out of the apartment, fumbling with his keys for a moment to lock up before sprinting to his car.

On the drive to work, Barry found himself distracted between navigating through traffic and the remnants of the dream he'd had this morning. It had been years since he'd had one like that of his mother. Barry couldn't help but wonder if that meant something.

By the time he got to work, he was already a little over a half hour late. As soon as he got through the doors of the precinct, he of course ran into Captain David Singh, who appeared unamused.

“You're _late_ , Mr. Allen,” Captain Singh said, glancing briefly at his watch. “ _Again_.”

“ _Ah!_ Y-yes, sorry,” Barry mumbled quickly. “I-it's just that traffic was crazy, and—!”

Captain Singh held up a hand and rolled his eyes. “Save it, Barry,” he said. “Just get to work.”

“Y-yes, sir!” Barry said, nodding enthusiastically as he began making his way to his workstation. “Right away, sir! No problem!”

He grimaced as he heard the captain mutter to himself as he walked away, “I swear, if I didn't respect Joe half as much as I do, I'd...”

When Barry finally made it to his desk, his foster father was waiting for him. “Oh! Joe! _Hey!_ ” Barry said as he quickly deposited all his things where he wanted them to be. “How's it going?”

Joe West simply chuckled at him. “Overslept?”

“Ah, yeah...sorry,” Barry said, smiling sheepishly.

“I'm starting to think that maybe it was a little too soon to let you be independent and have your own place,” said Joe. “You know, if you moved back in with us, at least we could all be sure that you wouldn't be late for work again.”

Barry rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know...thanks, Joe...I'll think about it.”

“You're always welcome, Barry,” Joe said, clapping a hand on one of Barry's shoulders. “Don't you forget that. Work hard, kid.”

“You got it.”

For Barry, the day went by pretty much business as usual. He filled out paperwork and processed a couple crime scenes. When the afternoon rolled around, he got his usual call from Iris to meet for some coffee. Iris was already sitting at a table waiting for him with two mugs by the time he made it to the coffee shop. She waved at him as he entered, and Barry smiled back in response.

“Hey, Barry!” Iris said as she enveloped him in a hug.

Barry laughed. “Hey, Iris. What's up?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Iris said with a smile. “Just the same old! Heard you were late to work again today.”

Barry groaned. “Yeah, I was...”

“Stayed up late last night?” Iris asked as she pushed a mug towards him. “Here! Got you one.”

“Thanks! And nah, nothing like that,” Barry said, shaking his head. “Got caught up in a dream...actually.”

Iris tilted her head to one side. “Really? Must have been one hell of a dream.”

“Well, it was more of a memory, really...” Barry said with a half-smile. “For some reason I just remembered a conversation I had with my mom, from when I was little.”

“Oh...” Iris said, a sympathetic expression spreading across her features. “Barry...”

“It's fine!” Barry said, shaking his head again. “It wasn't anything bad.”

“...want to talk about it?” Iris asked.

Barry shrugged his shoulders. “Not really much to tell. It was just the day my mom was explaining to me what soulmarks were.”

“Oh,” said Iris. “Huh.”

Barry chuckled. “Yeah. Weird thing to remember, isn't it?”

“Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say _all that_ ,” said Iris.

Barry smiled as he took a quick glance over to his left, and soon became interested in the story that was being broadcast on the screen. It was some celebrity news channel, announcing the latest antics of Starling City's heartthrob billionaire, Oliver Queen. Barry didn't know why, but every time he happened to see or hear about Oliver, his heart would skip a beat, and he could almost swear to feeling a little tingle right around his shoulder blade. Not that it really meant anything, he knew. In general, Oliver seemed to generate that kind of reaction from people, which Barry supposed came with the territory.

He was so absorbed by what he was watching that he didn't notice at first the way Iris was looking at him, clearly amused by his fascination. It was when he looked back at her and saw the knowing smile on her face that Barry began to feel like his cheeks were growing a bit warm.

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders a little while looking at Iris with his head turned slightly to one side. “What?”

His reaction, of course, only made her smile grow wider. “Oh, _come on_ , Barry!” she said. “You _know_ what!”

“Seriously, I don't know what you mean,” Barry mumbled, suddenly finding himself a lot more interested in the details of his very plain coffee mug.

It was uncomfortable for him sometimes, how perceptive Iris was. Barry didn't even necessarily understand the reason for his captivation with Oliver himself; only that he could never seem to pry his eyes away.

Iris laughed, and to Barry's relief, decided to let the matter go. “So...any noteworthy cases you come across today that I should know about?”

“Oh! Actually, maybe you'll find this one interesting,” Barry said, perking up instantly as he began to go through the details of one of the crime scenes he'd covered that morning.

If Iris happened to notice the way his eyes would unconsciously flit to the television screen every now and again, she didn't show it.


	3. Rebel Without a Cause

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's difficult not to feel motivated to write more for such an encouraging readership. 
> 
> For the record, [this](http://d.ibtimes.co.uk/en/full/1408852/flash-arrow-crossover-episode-logo.jpg) is the type of symbol I'm imagining for Oliver and Barry's shared soulmark. For Thea and Roy, I imagine something along the lines of [this](http://ih0.redbubble.net/image.13952750.4980/fc,220x200,red.u1.jpg).

The flavor of the week was auburn. That was about how long these women tended to last before they did or said something stupid. Oliver concentrated on his thrusts as he listened to the woman's rather enthusiastic cries.

As she climaxed, she wrapped her shivering limbs around Oliver's body and moaned. “ _Mm_...! _Oliver_...! I...I think I love you...!”

And that was it. There it was. Every time a girl he bedded declared her undying love for him, Oliver found himself rolling his eyes.

For as long as Oliver could remember, women had constantly thrown themselves at him. It increased with even greater frequency, if that were even possible, the minute some tabloid had managed to snag a picture of his soulmark and published it for all the world to see. Shortly after that, Oliver had begun to meet a countless number of women, some of whom even went so far as to tattoo over their own marks to match his, in hopes that they could convince him that they were a match. Just like the one trembling beneath him now.

If it weren't for the fact that Oliver knew he was supposed to feel some kind of burn where his mark was located upon first meeting his actual soulmate, he might have entertained the idea with some. Or, at the very least, he would have most likely found himself to be quite confused at how one man could possibly have so many destined partners in a single lifetime. Not that he minded. Given who he was and what resources he had available to him on a daily basis, Oliver much preferred to have a wide range of choices. For in truth, Oliver absolutely detested soulmarks and what they stood for. Sure, his parents seemed to get along well enough, but they had met before building an empire together. They didn't meet the same issue of people trying to get married to them so that they could line their pockets with gold and live a cushy lifestyle.

Disenchanted with the very notion of love, Oliver rejected the idea that people were born into the world without a choice. After all, he knew _why_ women were so eager to get to know him; he was the perfect combination of wealth and attractiveness. As a result, Oliver had, at some point, decided it wasn't love that he needed to find; it was just the right _working_ partner. Someone that would fulfill his needs practically— _not_ one predetermined by fate. Oliver believed all of that was just a crock full of shit.

When the woman below him placed a hand on his cheek, and Oliver felt his eyes narrow in annoyance. His irritation grew upon seeing the expectancy in his paramour's eyes, one that he'd grown quite accustomed to in those he bedded.

“Oliver...?” she asked.

This made him sigh. He could never understand why these women couldn't just let a good thing be. Oliver rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

“Get out.”

The woman beside him frowned. “What?”

He turned to look at her with an even expression, devoid of humor. “Leave,” he said. “We're through here.”

When the woman gaped at him in surprise, Oliver let out another sigh and this time rolled out of bed. Not giving her another glance, he began to get dressed.

He kept his calm as the woman began to raise her voice. “What are you talking about? What are you saying?! _Seriously?_ ”

Oliver shook his head. “Not sure what makes you think I'm not.”

“You're an _asshole_ , Oliver Queen!”

“Oh, I think I hear that one about every other week,” Oliver said as he adjusted his shirt and walked out the door. He turned to a servant just rounding the corner. “Make sure you escort that one out, won't you?”

“Yes, Master Queen.”

He was unfazed by the sound of crashing and hysterics coming from the room that he'd left behind. He wasn't worried about any damage, as it was only the guestroom. His lips curled slightly upon seeing a familiar face shaking her head at him as he walked down the hall.

“Thea,” he said, addressing his sister.

“You should really think about settling down for a change, Ollie,” his sister replied, trying to look disapproving, but unable to mask her fondness for her brother in her expression. “What was so bad about Dana anyhow?”

Oliver tilted his head slightly. “Dana? Was that her name?”

“ _Ollie_...!” Thea said, smacking her brother's chest lightly with the back of her hand as she stepped aside to let him in her room. “Really! You can be so terrible sometimes! What did she do, anyway?”

“Told me she loved me,” Oliver said with a shrug and slight grin as he accepted his sister's wordless invitation and made his way in.

Thea shook her head as she closed the door behind them. “And is that really so bad?”

“Oh, _come on_ , Thea!” Oliver groaned, walking over to his sister's bed and flopping onto it on his backside, limbs spread out any which way. “You know I don't buy into all that crap.”

“Well, _I_ don't think it's crap,” Thea said, sounding miffed as she went to take a seat beside her brother. She briefly took a glance at her shoulder and ran her fingers over where her soulmark was hiding underneath her shirt. “You know I can't wait to meet mine...”

“And for your sake, he'd better not be some knucklehead,” Oliver said with a slight frown. “Honestly though, Thea. Wouldn't you rather it be someone you decide on for yourself and not someone you think you have to?”

“What, like how you are about Laurel?” asked Thea. “Because really, you're not doing that relationship any favors by rolling around with other women the way that you are. How's that even going, anyway? Are you guys even still together? I've been meaning to ask...because if you are, then I have to assume she wouldn't approve of all... _this_.”

Oliver sighed. “Haven't talked to her in a while.”

“Why not?”

“She said something about wanting to move in together, and...”

“You freaked,” Thea said, finishing her brother's sentence with a knowing half-smile. “Seriously, Ollie, I don't understand why you have to be so skeptical. You'd think you'd take your commitment issues alone to be a sign of something. Not to mention there's enough proof out there, Mom and Dad included, that gives weight to the theories...”

“It'll still take more than all that for me to believe it,” Oliver said stubbornly.

“How would you know, anyway? Whether or not it's all real?” Thea said, challenging her brother. “It's not like you're speaking from some kind of experience. You haven't even met whoever it is that's your actual match.”

“Even if I did,” said Oliver. “It wouldn't matter. Everyone's always after the same thing.”

“Oh, Ollie...” Thea said, giving her brother a soft smile. “I wish you wouldn't be so cynical.”

“And I wish you'd be more careful,” Oliver said, nodding a little at his sister. “Don't be so trusting of others, Thea. It's one of your best qualities, but I don't want to see you get hurt.”

“Well I don't think the whole world is as superficial as you think,” said Thea.

“ _Oliver_...!”

It was their father. Both siblings looked in the direction of the bedroom door. Oliver rose to a sitting position.

“I'm with Thea, Dad!” he called.

Shortly thereafter, there was a knock on his sister's door. “Is it all right for me come in?”

“Yes!” said Thea.

The knob turned and their father stepped in. “Mind telling me what all the chaos is about this morning, son?”

“Don't worry about it, Dad,” Oliver responded with a bit of a lazy smile. “It's being taken care of.”

Robert Queen sighed and shook his head. “One of these days, son, I'm going to need you to start taking things in life a little more seriously.”

Thea grinned widely at their father. “I was just telling him the same thing!”

Robert gave his daughter a smile of his own. “Very good, Thea,” he said before motioning for his son to come towards him. “Come on, Oliver. We've got work to do.”

“Work?” Oliver questioned as he rolled off his sister's bed. “What kind?”

“We've got ourselves a trip to plan,” Robert said as he held up a hand in farewell to his daughter.

Thea smiled and waved back. She watched her father and brother leave the room together, none of them at all suspecting that a few months from that day, things would go terribly wrong.


	4. That Feeling Which is Described in French

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've given readers a fair enough warning, but just in case it hasn't seemed clear—since I'm definitely borrowing applicable scenes from the actual series—this is where the fic really begins to deviate mostly in terms of the romantic relationships established in both _The Flash_ and _Arrow_ , and the AUish elements come into play. Generally, while building this story, I've been working off of [the official timeline](http://arrow.wikia.com/wiki/Timeline), though obviously that's going to morph into something completely of my own creation by the time we get to the events laid out in the prologue, but just thought I'd share the information anyway. Also, I've decided as of now that soulmarks are on opposite shoulders; similar concept to a Mizpah charm. Hopefully this makes more sense as the story progresses.
> 
> As always, thank you for the tremendous continual support! It's an incredible source of motivation.

Eobard Thawne was a man who always prided on being two steps ahead. Which was why being involuntarily stuck in this time, in the past, had initially been a serious point of vexation. However, he was also a man of great versatility, and he had not taken long to adapt to the situation. In this second go-round of the year 2007, Eobard had a master plan; one that he would never foresee crumbling. There would be one imperfection in his otherwise flawless plan; one that he would have never thought to look for, because he had never had a reason to look for it. The irony of it all was that by forcing certain events to happen sooner, like the earlier launch of the particle accelerator, Eobard had set off a chain of events that would essentially “right” everything that had been “wrong” about the time he had come from.

These were the events as Eobard knew them to be, before his first tampering with the past. The original particle acceleration explosion didn't occur until 2020, and Barry Allen didn't receive his powers as The Flash until he was aged 31. Barry's mother was still alive, his father had never gone to jail, and Barry had gone and married his next-door neighbor and childhood friend, Iris.

In that same timeline, Oliver Queen still came back a changed man from his shipwreck, and still donned his green hood as Starling City's vigilante, The Arrow. He continued to never quite settle down into a serious relationship, and the closest he'd ever gotten to such a thing had been with Felicity Smoak.

Both men had, at some point, crossed paths on the crime-fighting scene, and there would be a brief moment where they'd look at each other and their soulmarks would burn, which would thoroughly confuse them both. Barry, of course, being the loyal soul that he was, would never leave Iris or even tell her of what had occurred out of fear that he'd unnecessarily hurt her, though he would always wonder. Oliver, on the other hand, upon discovery of Barry's true identity, would follow the younger man to his home and observe the situation from the shadows. Upon learning of Barry's seemingly amicable marriage to Iris, Oliver would walk away from it all and never look back, harboring mixed feelings on finding that he was possibly right about soulmarks being a load of nonsense, and an unexpected pang of emptiness, as if something that should have been rightfully his had been claimed by another.

While unclear how those events had unfolded in such a way, it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility that even the time Eobard was familiar with was not truly the original one. Meaning, the strands of time could have been manipulated once before by others, for a different purpose, and from a much later era. In general, when events were changed, even if not directly related to the individual responsible for changing them, there was always a consequential ripple effect that stretched for decades. By returning as far back as Barry's childhood and playing a significant role in altering major events in the speedster's past, as careful and as clever as Eobard believed himself to be, he was unknowingly rewriting history to lead to an outcome that would place him at an unintended disadvantage.

The closer one was to a string of events from a previous timeline, as Barry and his friends would one day later discover, the more likely one was to experience residual memories from those times. Barry began to experience such occurrences in this new version of events that Eobard had started, though not yet in the same vivid detail as Cisco would later on.

In the beginning, they were just _feelings_. The first of these happened for Barry when Iris gave him a call while they were both at work.

“ _Oh, Barry...! Check the news! You won't believe what's happened...!”_

Barry frowned and opened a new tab in his web browser, pulling up a site with the latest headlines for the day. He felt an eerie chill roll down his spine upon seeing what was being considered the most breaking news of the moment.

“Oliver Queen and his father have...?” Barry started, voice carrying a tone of confusion.

“ _They're gone, Barry! No one knows what's happened to the ship!”_ Iris said, confirming the contents of the story when Barry trailed off. _“The stock market is in an uproar!”_

For a moment, Barry just found himself staring at the screen blankly, not sure why it was he felt so numb. Nor could he explain why a small part of him felt oddly unsurprised by the news. Though he couldn't really place a finger on how or where, Barry was almost sure he'd experienced something like this before.

“ _Barry...? Barr, are you still there?”_

Barry shook his head, as if he believed it would also shake off the strange feeling he'd had. He cleared his throat and adjusted the grip on his phone.

“Yeah, Iris...yeah, I'm still here.”

“ _Everything all right? You got so quiet...what happened?”_

“Nothing,” Barry said, eyebrows slightly raised. “Just had a moment of déjà vu...that's all.”

“ _What? Really? Over this? That's interesting.”_

“I-I mean, no, that's crazy,” Barry said, shaking his head once again. “Sorry, I got distracted by something, totally unrelated...”

“ _Oh.”_

“Yeah...” Barry said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “About this though, Iris...I...I don't really know _what_ to say.”

“ _I know...isn't it terrible?”_ said Iris. _“You know people all over the country are going to be mourning the loss...”_

Barry half-smiled. “You mean all the _women_ across the country are going to be lamenting; they've just lost one of their beloved pop icons.”

Iris laughed softly. _“Oh, stop it, Barry. We both know you care just as much as the rest of us do.”_

“W-what?” Barry couldn't help but to squeak, cringing inwardly at himself as he felt his cheeks grow warm. “Really? Whatever gave you that idea...?”

“ _Come on, Barry!”_ Iris teased. _“Don't think I've never noticed the way you get distracted, every time there's any mention of Oliver Queen.”_

“I...you know what? Iris? I think...I think there might be a bad connection,” Barry said as he quickly found a piece of scrap paper and began crinkling it by his phone's mouthpiece. “I, uh...I'll call you later, okay?”

“ _What...? Barry! Are you serious? That's bullshit!”_ Iris said, laughing. _“The connection's totally been fine this whole time! It didn't just suddenly go bad!”_

“I...really, you know, I can't seem to hear you that well?” Barry insisted as he continued to make crinkling noises with the piece of paper. “I'll talk to you later, okay, Iris? I promise.”

He could almost see Iris rolling her eyes at him. _“_ _All right, okay, Barry...but just know that this conversation isn't over!”_

“Yeah, okay...bye, Iris!” Barry said quickly before hanging up the phone and letting out a small sigh of relief. He ran a hand through his hair and mumbled to himself. “Sheesh...”

Then, face taking on a more somber expression, Barry settled himself in his chair and took a more serious look at the news article on the Queen's missing yacht. While reading, his fingers absently trailed over his left shoulder blade.

The world didn't know then, but Oliver Queen was still alive. That same morning when the article was posted, Oliver woke up on the life raft he'd been on, exhausted, worn, and with the view of an island that would soon become his hell on earth for the better part of the next five years.


	5. Half of a Whole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed the broken links in the author's notes sections of previous chapters; not quite sure why all that happened.
> 
> As always, when readers leave feedback with something that triggers an idea to incorporate in a fic I'm working on, I'd like to credit them. [KuroHi91](http://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroHi91/pseuds/KuroHi91) gave me the idea to go a little bit into Oliver's thoughts on the whole soulmate bond concept while shipwrecked on the island. 
> 
> Sorry this is such a short, transitional chapter! I didn't see the need to really dive into Oliver's experiences in Hong Kong or Lian Yu, because there is not much I would actually change for purposes of this story. To make up for it, the next chapter will be much longer, I promise!

There were certain things time travel didn't change, particularly when it came to soulmarks. This was something, of course, that wouldn't be discovered for centuries.

So long as soulmates have met and their marks reacted, even if no relationship developed or couples were not afforded the opportunity to do so, the very establishment of that link would travel backwards in the event of a time rupture. There would never be a clear explanation for this, aside from the theory skeptics would raise their eyebrows at, that love perhaps truly did conquer over all.

There was also the matter of history repeating itself, in areas where there weren't enough chain reactions to affect the outcome of certain past events. Like Oliver's experiences on the island of Lian Yu, as an example. In those situations, residual memories came into play.

Which was why Oliver was able to face his trials on the treacherous island with a surprising level of endurance, for someone who had never before faced such hardship. Unbeknownst to him, Oliver would get through the same five years faster than he'd done the first time around. If someone asked him what had gotten him through the first time, Oliver's response would have been any number of things—his father, survival instincts, the mission for justice—but if one were to ask him now, he would answer differently.

It was the faint throb coming from his right shoulder blade, where his soulmark was located. The feelings it stirred within him wasn't something Oliver felt he could articulate. As someone who had spent most of his life discrediting soulmarks, Oliver found himself lending a considerable amount of thought to them.

Sara Lance was the first to call him out on it. She had mentioned something just after he'd brushed a hand over his right shoulder, something he'd begun to do more often.

“Are you hurt?” she had asked.

Oliver should have, but hadn't recognized it for the leading question that it was. He'd glanced at her.

“What?”

“Your shoulder,” she had said, with a curt nod at what she was referencing to. “It looks like it's been bothering you lately. You've been touching it quite a lot.”

Oliver had frowned. “...I'm fine. It's nothing.”

“Doesn't seem like nothing.”

He had made a noise of irritation then. “Sorry, were you always this persistent?”

“As I recall, you used to like that trait,” Sara had said with a thin smile.

He had groaned at that and let out a small sigh when Sara placed a hand gently on one of his arms.

“Oliver...it's _me_ ,” she had said finally. “You can tell me anything.”

“Honestly, Sara... _I_ don't even know what it means.”

“Your shoulder?”

“It's not...in pain,” Oliver had said, shaking his head. “Not exactly.”

She had tilted her head at that. “Then what is it?”

“I...it's the soulmark,” Oliver admitted reluctantly. “At least I think it is. It feels like...it's reacting to something.”

“Your soulmark,” Sara had said, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you didn't believe in them.”

“I _don't_ ,” Oliver had said, jaw tensing. “I just...never mind.”

“Oliver?”

“ _Forget it_ , Sara,” Oliver had snapped in annoyance. “Just _drop it_.”

And she had, though her bringing up the subject had caused Oliver to pay more attention to it than he would have liked. At first, he wondered if the sensations he felt around the mark meant that his soulmate was somewhere close by. He'd never heard of marks reacting prior to actually meeting the matching bearer before, but Oliver supposed at that point that just about anything was possible. That curiosity eventually lead to worry, as Oliver had no way of knowing whether his soulmate was capable of surviving on the island, or if he was a veteran of the dangers and fully able to take care of himself. Either way, Oliver found himself feeling unexpectedly anxious and wanting to find whoever it was that he was meant to connect to.

That feeling eventually faded, however, the bloodier his hands got. By the time Oliver came across the fisherman's boat that would be his means of escape, he had all but given up on finding his soulmate on the island.

Upon not feeling any pain as he began to distance away from the source of his nightmares—for it was said that those soulmates who have met before will feel their marks burn once more upon separation—Oliver harbored mixed feelings on the matter. On the one hand, he felt guilt, that perhaps his soulmate was actually on the island, and he had given up too soon. On the other hand, he felt somewhat relieved. Either he was wrong in believing his other half was also on Lian Yu, or he was correct in his theory that soulmarks didn't matter. Oliver tried not to spend too long entertaining the latter idea. Though he didn't like to admit it, the thought didn't settle well with him. He wouldn't have long to dwell on those thoughts, however, for the minute Starling City caught wind of his return, Oliver would find himself caught up in the center of a media frenzy that would seem as familiar to him as it would foreign.


	6. Secrets After Hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the tremendous amount of support that keeps me going. Reading the excitement in the comments motivates me to write faster, because it makes me want to reveal what I have in mind just that much more! And I have to say, some of the commentary is just downright _hilarious_. I read them over again and find that I can't stop laughing. I treasure them so much!

Five long years without an actual break in his mother's case. No promising leads, and no new evidence. To say Barry felt disheartened was an understatement; he was devastated. Rather than tell anyone about it though, he began to distract himself with a slightly different project. Investigating the shipwreck of the Queen's Gambit.

It was another one of those things that Barry felt like he knew, but he couldn't explain. Experience taught him people were not likely to listen to his theories, and so Barry decided to keep his mouth shut.

If anyone were to take the time to ask him, however, why he was so determined, Barry's matter-of-fact response would be that he just knew. The same way he knew that his father hadn't killed his mother, Barry was certain that somewhere out there, Oliver Queen was alive.

Between Oliver's disappearance and the standstill in his mother's case, Barry began building a new flowchart, one that he worked on every day after the end of his shift. He started from the date of Oliver's disappearance and worked backwards, looking for any clues.

Though his private mission remained that way for quite some time, the fact that he was newly distracted eventually did not go unnoticed by either his foster father or rather perceptive friend. Iris first brought up the subject during a typical work break at Jitters, as she often did.

“ _So...Dad says you've been spending an awful lot of time at the precinct.”_

Barry lifted his head; he'd been distracted by a few stray thoughts regarding Oliver. His eyebrows raised slightly in the manner they often did when he was caught off-guard.

“Hm...? Oh...yeah, kinda,” he mumbled.

“Okay...?” Iris said with a small smile, giving Barry a sideways glance. “So are you going to tell me what you've been up to, or what?”

Barry shook his head and gave her a shrug. “Nothing important,” he said. “Don't worry about it.”

“Oh, _come on_ , Barry,” Iris said, giving him a reprimanding look. “I wasn't born yesterday. _Spill_.”

Barry danced around the subject. “I've just been doing some side-research. Nothing special.”

“ _Aha!_ ” Iris said with a triumphant smile. “So there _is_ something!”

“Just a minor project,” Barry emphasized as he took a sip of his coffee. “That's all.”

“What kind of project?” Iris inquired.

Barry grimaced. “Seriously, Iris...it isn't really worth discussing...”

“If it wasn't worth looking into, you wouldn't be doing it,” said Iris. “Come on, Barr. I know you too well for that. Give me a little credit, won't you?”

Barry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You're going to think I'm crazy...”

“Oh yeah?” Iris asked with a raised brow. “Try me.”

Barry sighed again. “Yeah, all right...okay.”

“Well?”

Barry placed his hands around his coffee mug and tapped at either side with his thumbs. “Oliver Queen...”

“Oliver Queen?” Iris asked. “What about him? He's dead, Barry.”

“But he's not,” Barry said, shaking his head. “I mean...! I'm pretty sure he's not...”

“What do you mean by that?” Iris asked curiously. “Everyone knows that no one survived that wreck.”

“Do they really know, though?” asked Barry. “Listen, Iris...I know it sounds crazy...but I just _know_ he's alive, okay? I can't explain it...but I know he is, just like I know my father didn't kill my mom.”

“Oh, Barry...” Iris said, immediately taking on a sympathetic tone and expression. “This isn't really the same though...is it? I mean...that night, you _saw_.”

“Right...I know,” Barry said, gently biting the inside of his cheek. “I get that, but Iris...this time, I _feel_.”

“What?”

Barry chose that moment to cross his arm over his chest and massage his left shoulder. The action was so natural, that Iris didn't pick up on its significance.

“Never mind, you're right,” Barry said, only pretending to concede. “Maybe I was just looking for something else to focus on, since I haven't been able to find anything else on my mom's case...”

“Oh no...Barr...” Iris said, placing her hands over Barry's. “Is that what all this is about...?”

Barry just shrugged. Iris gave him a soft smile.

“Don't lose hope, okay...? _Don't_.”

Barry half-smiled at the irony of her advice. “...right.”

He was a little more careful in conducting his research after that; a little more discreet. Instead of spending so much time at the precinct, he spent a lot of time in his apartment, working, only going back when he felt he had enough compiled to put up on a board.

The interesting thing, Barry discovered, was that the deeper he tried to delve into Oliver's personal life, the less he seemed to know about the older man and his family. It struck a chord of curiosity within him, and he found that he wanted to learn more, even if he was slowly straying off the path of finding out _what_ could have happened to Oliver and began to focus more on _who_ exactly the older man was. Part of his deviation had to do with the fact that he'd reached a stagnant point in his investigation into Oliver's whereabouts as well, and rather than give into despair, he'd decided to redirect his focus on what he felt like he _could_ understand. It wouldn't be until much later, however, when Barry would learn how exactly to connect all the dots he'd uncovered.

While he was busy trying to figure out Queen Consolidated's functions as a company, which briefly caused him to get side-tracked in noticing interesting parallels to Gotham City's Wayne Industries, Barry got a call from Iris. It felt eerily similar to a phone call they had shared approximately five years prior.

“ _Barry...! Check the news! You won't believe what's happened...!”_

Barry felt a strange prickling of hairs on the back of his neck and frowned. “What...?”

“ _Just check it...!”_

“Yeah, all right, okay...” Barry mumbled as he opened a new tab in his web browser. “What exactly is it that I'm looking for...?”

His eyes slowly widened upon seeing the latest breaking headline for the day. _Oliver Queen_ , it read, in big bold letters. _The Prodigal Son Returns._

“ _You were right, Barry....!”_ he heard Iris say, though her voice sounded oddly far away as Barry grew distracted by his thoughts. _“I don't know how, but you were right...!”_

Not responding at first, Barry held his cell phone between his cheek and his shoulder. He pressed a key on his keyboard and zoomed in on Oliver's picture with his mouse.

“ _Barry...?”_

He took hold of his cell phone again with a hand. “Yeah, sorry, Iris. I'm here,” he said as he gently traced the fingertips of his free hand against the computer screen, around Oliver's face in the featured photograph. “He looks...”

“ _Disheveled,”_ Iris finished for him. _“As he should be. He's been missing for years! Who knows what he's been through!”_

“Hell,” Barry said tightly, realizing he felt more upset than it probably made sense for him to be. “He looks like he's been through absolute _hell_.”

He barely heard the rest of what Iris had to say. All he could focus on was the fact that his shoulder was aching, and he had the strangest need to _find_ wherever the man was and just _be_ with him. It wasn't normal, Barry realized, for someone like him to feel so strongly about someone he hadn't actually met in person. Rather than tell Iris what he was feeling, he decided to keep those particular thoughts to himself.

Their conversation ended amicably enough, with Iris not suspecting a thing. Barry went on to distract himself with some casework, trying his hardest not to fall deeper into what he was starting to feel was his unhealthily growing obsession.

Meanwhile, Oliver had braved and survived his first media storm since returning to Starling, and he was settling back into his home, where his mother and sister had been waiting for him in all the time he'd been missing. Thea, he found, had been an especially comforting presence to him. She'd thrown her arms around him, and he'd more than welcomed it.

“ _I knew it! I knew you were alive,”_ Thea had said, giving him a kiss on the cheek and whispering in his ear. _“I missed you so much...!”_

“ _You were with me the whole time,”_ he had replied.

He had tried to settle into some form of normalcy after arriving home, but he quickly found that it wasn't such an easy task. Everything seemed so different to him, or maybe his eyes just hadn't been opened yet, before the island. Maybe he just needed to grow up, as his father had so often lectured him, prior to the accident.

Though he couldn't fault his loved ones for trying, Oliver knew that things would never be the same again, and as much as he'd wanted to transition into his plan slowly, fate, as usual, had other ideas. Less than a day since his return, and he was already a hunted man. Realizing that he had no choice other than to accelerate his timetable, that was exactly what he did.

That afternoon, Oliver set the stage for what he needed. By nightfall, Starling City's Vigilante, also referred by some as the Hood, made his official debut. His was an entrance that rocked the nation, living up to pretty much the same reputation he held as the man underneath his costume.

Taking down Adam Hunt had just been the opening number. Oliver had far more fish to fry.


	7. Midnight Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so after about (at least) thirty revisions or so (not to mention with the publishing of a new fic) later, I think I've finally written something that I can personally accept. Maybe. I don't know!! This chapter was unexpectedly difficult to write and I don't know whyyyyy! Anyway, hopefully the quality of content more than makes up for the wait! 
> 
> The storyline is going to get wonkier as we go since even though I'm staying in the universe, because I'm changing a lot more of what actually happened in both series than I have been already so that it works for what I have in mind for this story. (I've got plans to stick a lot of cavity-inducing fluff eventually!) This chapter marks the beginning of significant deviations from the series canon. Enjoy!

To say that Barry's attention had become rather split was simplifying things. The return of Oliver Queen wasn't the only topic all over the news in recent days; there was the sudden appearance of Starling City's Vigilante as well, not to mention rumors of a launch date for the particle accelerator at S.T.A.R. Labs.

Barry's fascination with Oliver was, of course, nothing new, and being the enthusiast that he was for the sciences, his interest in the particle accelerator was also not really anything out of the ordinary. The Hood though—as Starling City's Vigilante was sometimes referred—well, Barry's motivation for following _that_ story was not as straightforward as he was willing to make it seem. The plausible answer, which wasn't entirely untrue, was that Barry felt admiration for someone who believed in bringing criminals to justice. Criminals who always seemed just out of the grasp of authorities.

The real answer, of course, was a bit more complex, and as much as Barry hated to admit it, the way any news of the Vigilante caught his attention made his private reasons for keeping tabs on Oliver seem that much more delusional. Barry couldn't explain it, and that seemed to be a running theme for him these days, but he felt just as oddly connected to the Hood as he did with Oliver.

Initially it had bothered him, the fact that he couldn't explain why it was he felt the same light thrum in his shoulder when watching news stories about the Hood. He was disappointed, perhaps, at how this realization broke down his childish fantasy that the dull buzz in his shoulder meant that he was somehow connected to Starling's billionaire playboy. Not that he'd even admit to having such thoughts in the first place. Even if he were to entertain the idea, Barry knew it didn't make sense. There was no such thing as being born connected to two different destined partners.

Regardless, he couldn't understand it, and rather than allowing himself to become frustrated by the notion, Barry distracted himself by making a game out of trying to be the first person to figure out who the Hood might be. Barry created a separate flowchart for the Vigilante and took note of his conquests. He couldn't help silently cheering the man on, each time he caught a criminal. The Dollmaker. Count Vertigo. Dodger. The list went on and on.

Sometimes, he'd catch himself daydreaming about things he had no business imagining. He had done this innocently at first, back during the time before Oliver had been declared missing. Innocent, as in Barry hadn't intentionally allowed his mind to wander into such territories. Not at the start.

The first time had come shortly after he'd heard Oliver's name mentioned for the first time, by Iris. Barry had been on the phone, placing an order of Chinese food for delivery, and Iris had been on the couch watching some celebrity gossip channel on the television. After he had finished the phone call, Barry had plopped himself down right next to Iris and pat his hands down on his thighs before stretching his arms on the backing and armrest of the couch.

“ _So? What are you watching?”_ Barry had asked with raised eyebrows. _“Anything interesting?”_

“ _Only the most gorgeous guy on the planet!”_ Iris had replied with a smile. She'd pointed at the screen. _“Look! It's Oliver Queen.”_

“ _Huh?”_ Barry had responded, perplexed. _“Oliver who?”_

Iris had playfully thwacked him in the chest and laughed. _“Queen, Barry. Oliver Queen. Don't tell me you've never heard of him!”_

“ _Uh...can't say that I have,”_ Barry had said sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“ _Seriously?! I'd ask what rock you've been living under, but...”_

“ _Ha-ha...very funny, Iris.”_

“ _Anyway, he's this really rich guy in Starling City. Son of Robert and Moira Queen. Heir to Queen Consolidated.”_

“ _Whoa, whoa...”_ Barry had said, quirking an eyebrow. _“You really know the 411 on this dude.”_

Iris had rolled her eyes at him then. _“Well, of course! I'm a reporter. That's my job. Now hush and watch!”_

Barry had laughed and shaken his head. _“So he's an attractive guy living a posh lifestyle. Sounds like just about everyone else who's been dealt a similar deck of cards. I can't say, based on that, that I can see what the big deal about this guy_ _..._ _”_

He had trailed off upon glancing at the footage being played on screen of a rather handsome young man playfully engaging the paparazzi as he walked towards his private car. Barry had gulped unexpectedly and felt his eyebrows furrow together.

“ _..._ _is,”_ he had finally managed to force out before pointing at the man on the screen. _“Sorry, Iris? Is that…?”_

“ _Yup! That's him! That's Oliver Queen!”_ Iris had confirmed, beaming at him. _“Isn't he totally hot?”_

Barry's cheeks had flushed a bit pink at that. _“O-oh...I don't know Iris, I...”_

“ _Hm? Oh! Haha! Sorry!”_ Iris had said, bursting out into laughter. _“I wasn't thinking when I asked that just now! Of course you'd have no comment on that. I mean...unless you liked boys?”_

“ _H-huh? N-no…!”_ Barry had stammered, causing Iris to glance at him curiously.

“ _Barry…?”_ she had said slowly. _“You all right…?”_

“ _Y-yeah,”_ Barry had stammered. _“I-I'm fine, Iris.”_

This had caused his best friend to arch her eyebrow in much the same way as her father, Joe. _“Real_ _ly. Because if I didn't know any better, I'd say...”_ and Barry had almost jumped sky high when Iris placed a reassuring hand on his kneecap. _“You know, Barry...it's okay if you do.”_

“ _D-do…?”_ Barry had said, feeling his eyebrows starting to rise towards his hairline. _“Do w-what…?”_

“ _Like—”_

The deliveryman from the Chinese takeout place had arrived then, and the sound of the doorbell interrupted whatever it was Iris had been about to say. Barry had bounced off the couch rather enthusiastically.

“ _Oh, thank god…!”_ Barry had muttered to himself as he practically bolted towards the door. _“That must be the food.”_

Though truthfully, it hadn't mattered to Barry right then _what_ it was. He had just been grateful for the distraction. Knowing Iris, she would have insisted on an answer to her question; one which Barry wasn't sure he had the answer to. Barry had never before felt such interest in _any_ man, and he wasn't sure what it meant that he felt something of a spark upon seeing the man on the television screen. Thankfully, Iris had been miraculously merciful that evening, and the issue had been swept under the rug. For the time being.

That night, Barry's thoughts had unconsciously wandered while he'd been reading before bed. Perhaps it was due to his reading Bram Stoker's _Dracula_ , but for some reason, Barry had found himself imagining that he was wandering the halls of some grand residence, though less like a castle and more like a mansion. The odd part about it though, was that it had felt oddly familiar. Even though it was a fantasy, Barry had felt his feet guiding him to a specific door, and it hadn't felt wrong. When he had pushed the door open, there Oliver was, hands in his pockets and looking out a window. Barry's face had flushed when the pretty boy billionaire casually turned himself around, a lazy smile slowly gracing his face.

“ _Barry…!”_

Oh. And the way Oliver had said his name. _That_ had sent shivers right down his spine. What had been interesting then, was that words came out of Barry's mouth automatically, and they had come out with something close to an easygoing confidence; the complete opposite of the freaking out he'd been doing in his mind.

“ _Hey, Ollie.”_

And when Oliver closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around the younger man in an embrace, Barry had felt strangely emotional. There had been an unexplainable pang in his chest; one of emptiness and longing, like he'd both lost and missed something terribly at the same time.

Barry had eventually shaken his head, snapping out of his reverie. He had then promptly turned over, switched off the light, and gone to bed.

Another time—he had experienced quite a few of them at that point—had been shortly after he had gotten off the phone with Iris, when she had informed him that the Queen's Gambit had shipwrecked. The unsettling feeling of déjà vu never left him, and he had later closed his eyes and imagined himself being held by some woman—he couldn't see her face clearly. She was consoling him.

“ _Don't worry, Barr...we won't give up until we find him,”_ the woman's voice said, resolute. _“We'll find him…!”_

And Oliver would someday be found, Barry had decided, in that moment, though he couldn't explain how he knew that for sure. He just _knew_ , and he had tried to tell Iris as much.

What Barry didn't know, was that some of these dreams were commingled with actual memories, from a time gone by. They had the potential to grow with more clarity and intensity, but whether or not they did would be contingent on his becoming acquainted with the source.

Time was a fragile thing. Tamper with it, even just a little, and an entire lifetime could change. As far as Barry and Oliver were concerned, though neither of them knew it, they were in the midst of a third version of their lifetime. And out of those three, they had only truly managed to be together for one, though the second time they had remained close. It was reasonable to hypothesize that with each rendition, the two would only grow further and further apart, but at the moment it was too early to come to such a conclusion.

Ever since the appearance of the Vigilante, Barry found himself intentionally allowing his mind to wander. Realizing that maybe he really was into men changed things. Though his interests were, at the moment, still limited to just Oliver and the Hood, Barry was becoming less certain about that not changing even more down the road. He therefore concluded that there was no longer any harm in indulging himself. In moderation, of course.

At the same time, though he now sought it, he didn't really have to try in attaining his goal. If anything, his thoughts became flooded more easily, and they even bled into his dreams while he was asleep. The most recent one had come sometime after the Hood had defeated The Huntress.

Barry dreamt of running. Of red and green. At some point he found himself standing on a rooftop, and then there before him was the Hood, facing him, a mask covering part of his face. Barry couldn't help the way his heart fluttered, when the Vigilante smirked at him.

“ _You know, as fast as you've become,”_ the masked man said. _“It amazes me how you still sometimes manage to get to places late.”_

By now, Barry was used to his lack of control over his words while dreaming. Or his actions. Barry felt himself roll his eyes.

“ _Hey, I'm working on it, okay…?”_

The masked man chuckled. _“_ _It's alright, Barr,”_ he said in a tone that was clearly teasing. _“_ _Doesn't make me love you any less.”_

Barry ended up waking from that particular dream incredibly confused. Especially because of how inaccurate he found it to be. There was no reason for the Hood to know his name, let alone declare his love for Barry. It was unrealistic. Despite knowing this, the remnants of the dream lingered with him all the way to the precinct.

For once, Barry managed to get to his desk without some sort of reprimand from Captain Singh, who was out on a case. The day seemed like it would go by like business as usual, until Barry happened to overhear a trio of cops chattering between themselves about an interesting case that had popped up in Starling.

“ _...wonder what they used to rip that door off.”_

“ _Gotta be more than one person, don't you think? Wasn't it some sort of thick steel?”_

“ _Titanium, Jack. Titanium.”_

“ _That's right.”_

“Sorry, what case is this?” Barry asked as he interjected himself into the conversation, drawing the attention of the officers, who smiled at him upon recognition.

“Oh, Barry!” said one. “How's it going, kid? We're just talking about this strange case that we just caught wind about, from the boys over at Starling P.D. Looks like there's been a break-in.”

“What were they after?” Barry asked.

“Not sure. Didn't catch that part. They're thinking it's got to be a team of them though; there's no way one man got through that door.”

“But here's the strange thing,” one of the other officers said, cutting in. “They have no idea what these guys used to do it. No sign of any explosives or anything of the like.”

Barry's eyes widened slightly at that.

“Weird, ain't it?”

“Yeah...” Barry agreed, feeling somewhat numb. “Weird...hey, listen, guys? I'm uh...I've got to go…”

“Go? Go where? Barry? You all right, kid?”

“Yes! Ah…! I-I mean, no... _no_ ,” Barry said with a grimace. “I, er...I think I ate something real funny this morning…I, um...I don't feel so great.”

“Oh? Hey...yeah...you ain't lookin' too good, kid. You look a little green. Go on and get yourself checked out.”

“Y-yeah…! That's _exactly_ what I'm about to go do,” Barry said before striding quickly back to his desk so that he could pack up and leave.

It looked like he was going to have a train to catch.


	8. Liar, Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE WAY YOU READERS BRING ME TO LIFE!!!! I cannot thank you guys enough for your tremendous show of support!! This chapter ended up taking a lot more time than I initially expected, because I was re-watching the episode through slash goggles and over analyzing every little facial expression...just because I could. Hahaha.
> 
> Anyway, so...while Flarrow is my OTP, I admit to having a bit of a soft spot for ColdFlash as well, as a secondary pairing. Wondering if I should incorporate a little bit of that into this fic for added drama? What do you guys think? If no “romantic interruptions” are preferred, then I'm more than happy to table that kind of idea for a different fic, some other day.
> 
> ALSO…! I am debating whether or not I should start a side-story set with some scenes from the earlier timelines I refer to in this fic?? Would readers be interested in that? Let me know! It'll basically be just more detailed expansions of the flashbacks mentioned throughout this story.
> 
> Now, all those questions for you readers out of the way...onward we go! Heavy spoilers for the _Arrow_ 's SE02E08 “The Scientist” here!

Murphy's Law. That was the order of the day. And in Barry's case, it was nothing out of the ordinary.

He had, of course, missed the first train to Starling that he'd tried to catch. Thankfully, he hadn't missed the next, although he'd felt particularly antsy while waiting for it. It was just as well, though, because it gave Barry time to rehearse what he would say once he reached the crime scene. It also gave him time to look over information on the reported crime on his tablet, and read a featured article in _Science Showcase_ magazine regarding the recent particle accelerator project from S.T.A.R. Labs. His bad luck, however, didn't quite end there. It was raining heavily when he got off the train, he'd been ignored by a taxi he had tried to flag down, and then he got splashed by a car's tires spinning against a huge puddle of water. By the time he reached Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences Division, Barry's drenched self was only just starting to dry.

Getting into the crime scene had been relatively easier than he'd expected; far easier than it would have been in Central City. Flash a smile here, show a badge there, mumble some relatively plausible excuse, and he was in. And once he was, Barry wasted no time in getting to work.

Barry had been quite absorbed in his investigation at first, until he felt a slight tingle run over the area around his left shoulder blade. Barry stopped what he was doing and lifted his head, looking ahead, but not really focusing on anything in particular, and lightly ran his fingertips over the area. That's when he caught the tail end of a conversation.

“ _This is what we were able to pull off the, uh, security cameras...”_

That got Barry's attention immediately. He turned around from what he was looking at, focusing on the analysis being given by the person speaking and hanging back for the time being.

“The only guy we got on video,” he heard the man say. “The rest of the crew must have...come in after him.”

Barry shook his head to himself. That was wrong. He'd known it the minute he'd flipped through the data he'd been able to find on the crime, and his suspicions had only been confirmed by what he had found while looking over the crime scene. He chose that moment to speak up.

“Actually? It was only one guy.”

When the group of people conversing turned to look at him, Barry began to do what he did best—babble nervously. His entire practiced speech from the train, of course, flew out the window, and suddenly he was ad-libbing his cover story.

“Ah...s-sorry I'm late,” Barry said, as he marched over from where he was standing with his tablet in one hand and the other in his pocket. “But, _actually_ , my train was late... _well_ , the second one, not the first one. The first one I did miss, but...”

He'd almost completely lost track of what he was saying when he happened to notice who was part of the group he was addressing. Both his eyebrows raised briefly in instant recognition.

“ _Holy shit…!”_ Barry thought to himself. _“That's…!”_

 _Oliver Queen_. In the flesh. Barry instantly felt a warmth around his shoulder blade, but he thought nothing of it because he was so used to it. Sure, it was warmer than usual, but there was no quick burn, like a hot flash. It was a tricky thing, soulmarks. They didn't simply _reset_ , just because time had been tampered with. Whereas the very first time Oliver and Barry had ever met, in their original timeline, the reaction of soulmarks had been unmistakable. This time, it was different. Had either man known what to look for, they would have realized that their soulmarks were reacting in a very familiar way, like it was good to see each other again after a while, as opposed to having met for the very first time.

Barry suddenly found that he couldn't keep his eyes off the man, nor suppress the genuine smile from his expression. He tried to distribute his eye contact evenly, but he kept finding his gaze drawn to Oliver.

“...that was my cab driver's fault. I've got this great traffic app, and...” the smile slowly slipped off Barry's face when Oliver didn't reciprocate. “…he thought that he was right. I'm here now, though, so...”

Oliver had been staring at him silently, with a stoic expression, but after Barry had finished speaking, he dropped his gaze for a moment, seeming a bit perplexed. What Barry didn't know, was that Oliver had felt the warmth too, in his own shoulder, and he was thoroughly confused by it. Unlike Barry, the older man hadn't felt anything like it in a long time, at least, not that he could recall. The last time had been on Lian Yu, and remembering _that_ dredged up uncomfortable memories for Oliver, because it reminded him that he had left the island not entirely sure if he was also leaving behind his soulmate. It was strange though, Oliver thought, that this kid had brought back such a feeling. From what Oliver could tell, the boy was too young, and much too radiant to have undergone the same island experiences. There had also been warmth in his shoulder, and not a burn, like he'd always been led to believe would happen upon meeting his soulmate, which made this whole situation seem stranger. Oliver was certain he wasn't into men, much less young boys who appeared half his age, and yet, he couldn't describe what it was he was feeling in that moment.

Detective Lance's words brought him back to earth. “Great. Who the hell are you?”

“And do your parents know that you're here?” Oliver tacked on immediately after.

He was half-probing, trying to figure out if Barry would give him a clue as to his age, but also he couldn't keep the other element out of his tone. It wasn't quite teasing, but it wasn't quite bullying either. It was something akin to a little boy liking something but not understanding the emotion and expressing it through some childish act, like pushing.

There was something endearing about the way Barry's mouth had fallen open slightly, like he couldn't decide whether or not to feel insulted by Oliver's question. Rather than addressing it directly though, the younger man chose to subtly answer Oliver's question through answering the one Detective Lance had posed him.

“I'm Barry Allen,” he said as he reached into his pocket for his badge. “I'm...from the Central City Police Department…? I'm from the Crime Scene Investigation Unit…?”

The younger man hoped that it would hint that he wasn't underage, but Oliver lowered his gaze once more, not appearing very convinced. Rather than letting the silence draw out, Barry placed his badge back in his pocket and spoke with growing confidence.

“We're working on a case with some similar unexplained elements in Central City,” he said, tilting his head slightly and trying to catch Oliver's eyes. “So when the report of your robbery came over the wire, my captain sent me up here.”

Oliver was eying Barry very carefully, trying to assess whether or not the kid was lying. He had gotten very good at reading people over the years and quite frankly, he didn't think he bought the younger man's story. At the same time, there was something about Barry. Something _familiar_ , and that was what Oliver found himself getting caught up on.

“And you think _one guy_ ripped through this door like it was tin foil?” Detective Lance asked, unamused.

“One very strong guy, yeah,” Barry said with a smile and a nod.

The group fell silent again. When Barry realized Oliver didn't seem impressed, he decided to show them something on his tablet.

“Uh, it takes about 1,250 foot pounds of torque to break someone's neck,” he said, mostly addressing Oliver. “You see the marks on the guard's neck? The bruising patterns suggest the killer used only _one_ hand.”

Oliver's gaze dropped to the floor yet again. Barry smiled at him and said what would probably be one of the world's strangest pickup-yet-not-really-a-pickup line ever.

“I'm guessing you don't know how hard it is to break someone's neck?”

Oliver's eyes widened slightly, but he managed to recover quickly because he realized Barry wasn't actually calling him out on anything. “Hm…? No. No idea.”

“ _Right...of course not,”_ Barry thought to himself as the smile slowly fell from his face and he mouthed a couple words to himself, trying to figure out where he had thought he'd been going with that statement anyway.  It most certainly wasn't the smoothest pickup line of the century; if it could even be classified as that.

There was something endearing about the younger man, Oliver had to admit, though he still wasn't entirely sure what to make of Barry. His attention was soon recaptured by the man who had been explaining the crime scene.

“Uh, we're going to need a list of the entire inventory here, to figure out what was stolen.”

Oliver nodded. Just when the conversation seemed to be going back to normal, Barry surprised him yet again.

“Actually, I think I _know_ what was stolen?”

Oliver turned and looked at the younger man in confusion. There was something suspect about Barry, Oliver thought, the way the kid just seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and seemed to be bubbling with all kinds of farfetched answers to equally impossible questions. When he arched an eyebrow, Barry took that as permission to go on, and so he did.

“A centrifuge,” said Barry. “An industrial centrifuge. Probably the Kord Enterprises 2BX-900? _Maybe_ the six series? Both have a three-column base.”

He guided the group over to what he was referring to. He pointed at what was left of the centrifuge when they reached it.

“Here,” Barry said. “You can see the three sets of broken bolts where the thief just ripped it out of the ground.”

Oliver looked at Barry, disbelieving. He dropped his gaze as soon as he noticed the younger man was about to look his way, and stared at the remains of the centrifuge instead.

“And what exactly is a centrifuge?” Detective Lance asked.

Before Barry could reply, the blonde that was with Oliver spoke up. “It...separates liquids.”

That caught Barry's attention for a different reason than the rest of the group's. He hadn't necessarily expected any of them to be scientists, especially since they had been mostly silent for his explanations thus far.

“The centripetal acceleration causes denser substances to separate out along the radial direction,” the blonde continued.

“And lighter objects move to the top,” Barry finished for her.

There was a brief spark, but not of the romantic variety.  At least, not for Barry, anyway. It was more like _game on_ , as they say.

“What did you say your name was?” the blonde asked.

“Barry?” said Barry. “Allen?”

“Felicity,” said the blonde. “Smoak.”

Oliver didn't know why, but he felt a ripple of annoyance course through him then, and he felt a warmth spread in his shoulder again. He was also feeling oddly territorial, but he didn't know where it was coming from. A warmth also spread in Barry's shoulder, bringing him to look at Oliver once more. The smile on his face quickly dropped upon seeing the older man's expression, which was devoid of humor. Barry reacted as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. He didn't know why he was feeling the way he was either. He quickly refocused his attention on the task at hand.

“Um, you can see the cracks heading towards the door…? Footsteps. One guy,” Barry said, looking mostly at Oliver again.

He also couldn't explain why he felt like he was in some sort of trouble when Oliver didn't respond. The older man just gave him a look before passing by him and squatting down to look at the centrifuge.

“Anyway…! It's just a theory...” said Barry. “One backed by _a lot_ of evidence.”

“There has to be another explanation,” Detective Lance said, also appearing unimpressed.

Barry nodded with slight resignation. He was used to people not believing in the impossible.

“Yeah...” he said. “I...I'm sure you're right.”

Oliver was the first to return back to Queen Consolidated, with Diggle.He eventually became lost in his thoughts, remembering part of his time on Lian Yu. He had seen a case like the one they were looking into now before.

Diggle's words broke him out of his reverie. “Oliver. Got the final inventory from Applied Sciences. The CSI from Central City was right.”

“ _Of course he is,”_ Oliver mused.

He found that Barry knowing as much as he did was all too convenient, and he fully planned on having Diggle look into it later.

“The only thing missing is a centrifuge.”

Before Oliver could reply, Felicity marched into the room and chimed in with her own findings. “You have to see this,” she said, showing the two men what she had pulled up on her tablet. “I pulled up CC traffic camera footage from across the street of Applied Sciences? This is three minutes after the alarm went off...”

The fact that what he saw on screen was exactly as Barry hypothesized bothered Oliver. Not because the strong-man theory was a reality, but more because Barry just seemed a little too lucky in his guesses. Oliver had learned to become extremely wary of anything that seemed too simple or too good to be true.

A heat spread through Oliver's shoulder again in that moment, and for some reason Oliver felt compelled to look towards the room's entrance. He didn't know what to make of his lack of surprise upon seeing Barry hanging back hesitantly.

“Can we help you with something, Detective?” Oliver asked tartly.

“Oh, CSI's aren't actually detectives,” Barry said with a rather easygoing smile and rolling his suitcase into the room behind him. “We don't even carry guns."

Oliver found himself struggling to not find the younger man endearing. He also felt the odd sense like this was all familiar to him somehow, though he couldn't explain why.

Determined not to show any kind of approval, Oliver furrowed his brow when Barry chuckled. “Just...some plastic baggies.”

As seeming to be a developing trend between them, Barry's smile dropped the minute he realized Oliver wasn't at all amused. He quickly took on a more serious tone, all the while internally wondering what it was about Oliver that constantly caused him to act all goofy around the older man.

“Uh, where should I set up my stuff?” Barry asked.

“Ah, I'll show you,” said Felicity.

“What's going on?” Oliver asked immediately.

Barry took several steps forward automatically. “Y-you're assistant said that you preferred to keep the investigation in house, so I cleared it with my captain to give you a hand,” he explained.

“Oh...” Oliver mouthed silently as he nodded before pulling Felicity aside and speaking to her in a low voice. “What are you doing…?”

“We need to find this intruder,” said Felicity. “And he seems to know more about it than any of us. Forensic science isn't exactly my forte, so I'd say we need him. Wouldn't you?

It wasn't the most ideal situation, but he could see Felicity's point. Especially because part of his plan involved wanting to keep her and Diggle in the dark as much as possible in regards to how much he personally knew; for their protection.

Oliver nodded and plastered on a forced smile. “Mmhmm,” he agreed, a light sarcastic bite to his tone.

Felicity, of course, was only focused on the fact that Oliver had agreed. Oliver slowly turned with her as she took quick strides towards Barry.

“I'll show you around!” she said with a smile.

For a brief moment, Oliver's eyes locked with Barry's, and the younger man had such a wide smile on his face that the older man felt his breath catch, just slightly. He could feel Diggle's eyes trying to analyze him, and so he turned back around quickly before the other man could get a good look.

Diggle's inquiry was slightly more preferable than another he could have asked. “Why do I get the feeling you know more about this than Felicity's new friend?”

It was effective in pushing distracting thoughts regarding Barry out of his mind for the time being, which Oliver appreciated.

“Pray I'm wrong,” he said.

After giving Barry a quick tour of Queen Consolidated, Felicity returned with him to the crime scene and set up shop. Felicity watched from her computer monitors as Barry crouched on the floor and began looking for something. She then slowly made her way around and bent forward a little before speaking to Barry.

“What exactly are you looking for?” she asked.

“Um, your thief's shoes touched the ground? Which means he tracked in dozens of clues as to where he's been the past few days,” Barry explained before he found what it was he was looking for. “Gotcha.”

Barry placed whatever it was that he'd found in the palm of his hand, and Felicity watched him as he brought it over and placed it in a machine for analysis. They exchanged smiles.

“Shouldn't take long,” said Barry.

Felicity then walked over to a computer monitor to check on the process. Before she could get too absorbed, Barry cut into her thoughts.

“So, you've seen him, right…?” Barry asked. “The Vigilante?”

The question startled her. Felicity looked away, trying to think of a way to change the subject. Barry, however, did not seem ready to be so easily deterred.

“I read that he saved you,” Barry said, eyes twinkling with childish wonder. “What was he like?”

“Green,” Felicity said, tensing, for lack of anything better to say.

“Green…!” Barry echoed in a hushed, excited whisper. “That's _interesting_ , right? I mean...why _green_? Black would be better for stealth, and urban camouflage.”

Felicity eyed Barry curiously, wondering both over the man's power of perception and keen interest in Oliver's alter-ego.

“Me, personally?” Barry went on. “I think that he trained in some sort of like forest or jungle environment, and the green is a nod to that.”

“ _How does he know all this?!”_ Felicity inwardly exclaimed.

The answer to that question, wasn't just because Barry was a very bright individual, though he was. The truth was, some of Barry's perceptive skills could be credited to his residual memories; some of which he wasn't consciously aware of yet.

“I don't give the Vigilante much thought,” Felicity said while making her way around to the other side of the table, as if putting distance between them would somehow help.

Barry happily continued on. “Police reports show that he uses carbon arrows? But if he switched to an aluminum carbon composite? He would have far better penetration.”

“Maybe he thinks he penetrates just fine,” Felicity said, tone somewhat defensive.

Barry grinned, not at all noticing her double entendre. “Do you want to know something else?” he asked.

Felicity's brows furrowed slightly. She wished Barry would move on from the topic.

“I think that he has partners,” he said. “ _Definitely_ someone with a background in computer sciences.”

“Yeah...” Felicity replied softly, pretending to suddenly become very interested in what was being shown on one of the monitors. Curiosity getting the better of her though, after a moment, she felt the need to ask. “Why are you so interested in the Vigilante?”

This gave Barry pause. Though he probably should have anticipated such a question, he actually hadn't. He could have told Felicity the truth, but he realized how crazy that would sound, given that one couldn't actually be destined for two different partners, and just because he thought his soulmark was reacting to both Oliver and the Vigilante didn't necessarily mean he was meant to be with either one. Furthermore, there was also the fact that he would probably have to explain bothhow he didn't know what his soulmark looked like and why that was. So, taking a deep breath, Barry settled for a more reasonable-sounding answer that wasn't entirely untrue.

“When I was 11, my mom was murdered.”

Felicity's expression immediately became sympathetic. “I'm so sorry.”

“Oh, no, no...” Barry whispered softly, shaking his head before continuing. “They never caught the guy who did it. Maybe he would have.”

The very brief silence that fell between them was interrupted by the sound of a computer beeping, and both their attentions turned to what was being displayed on its screen.

“The soil there's a crystalline structure in it,” Barry said. “That's weird...”

“What's weird?” Felicity asked.

“It's _sugar_ ,” Barry said with a slight frown.

“Huh,” Felicity said before she decided to run a search on something.

Barry glanced at her. “Have an idea?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Felicity said with a nod. “One sec.”

“Sure.”

Several minutes later, Oliver arrived with Diggle.

“Found something?” he asked as he approached the two scientists.

“We found something!” Felicity confirmed.

“There were trace amounts of sucrose and a spec of dirt the killer dragged in here on his boot,” said Barry.

Oliver's gaze admittedly lingered a beat too long on the younger man. He turned his attention to Felicity, when she continued.

“Which got me thinking,” she said. “There is a sugar refinery two miles from here. The land around it is suffused in waste sugar. So I checked. They had a delivery truck stolen a few days ago.”

“Their truck matches the make and model of the truck the thief used to steal the centrifuge,” Barry supplied.

“Can you track the vehicle?” Oliver asked, looking straight at Barry.

“We've been trying,” said Felicity.

Oliver let out a small sigh of exasperation. A beeping from one of the computers immediately grabbed his attention.

“What was that?” he asked.

“You're not going to believe this,” said Felicity. “The truck...it was just used to rob a blood bank?”

“Are you sure?” asked Oliver.

“Yeah,” said Felicity. “Our guy just made off with 30,000 CCs of O-negative.”

“What, he has super strength, likes blood?” said Diggle. “Please don't tell me we suddenly believe in vampires.”

Oliver rolled his eyes.

“We should give this information to the local police,” Barry said.

“I'll…! Take care of that,” said Oliver. “Did you say that you were working a similar case in Central City?”

For the second time that day, Barry was caught completely by surprise by a question he should have reasonably prepared for.

“Oh, yeah, um... _yeah_ ,” he said. “You know, it's similar. Has similar elements. A lot of similarities.”

“Right,” Oliver said with a tight nod, unamused. “Yeah.”

He placed a hand on Diggle's arm and turned the other man around. Barry opened his mouth as if to say something else, but then he quickly decided against it and turned his attention back to one of the computer screens in front of him.

“ _Damn,”_ he thought to himself. _“Real smooth, Barry...”_

“I want you to look into this Allen kid,” Oliver said to Diggle, once he felt that they were just out of earshot. “There's more to him than he's letting on.”

“His intentions seem pretty clear to me,” Diggle said with a small smile.

Oliver glanced back to where Barry and Felicity were. He couldn't articulate the spark of emotion he felt upon seeing the two rub shoulders. His jaw tensed in annoyance.

“Just do it, please,” he said.

“Oliver, when are you going to tell me what exactly we're up against?” Diggle asked.

The Vigilante responded by letting out a frustrated breath and then walking off. Several minutes later, he had found and begun chasing down the man driving the stolen truck. He didn't manage to capture him, but he at the very least was able to keep the arrow he had stabbed the man's thigh with.

What followed was him getting patched up by Felicity and having to explain to both her and Diggle about what he knew regarding the truck thief boasting superhuman strength. Oliver then handed the damaged arrowhead to Felicity.

“I need you to analyze the blood on the arrowhead,” he said. “If we can figure out which sedative they're using—”

“We can figure out where the next robbery will be,” Diggle finished for him.

“Okay...” Felicity said meekly, clearly queasy by what she was holding. “Barry and I will get right on it.”

“I think our Miss Smoak is smitten,” Diggle said after the blonde had walked away.

“Diggle. What did you find out about Mr. Allen?” Oliver asked.

“He's not who he says he is,” Diggle said before walking away.

Oliver remained where he was at first, taking a moment to absorb this new information. Apparently Diggle had found something to confirm his suspicions. So then the question, then, was to learn who exactly Barry was, and what his motives were getting involved in this case. The whole thing bothered Oliver, and not just because the younger man had lied, but because it was _Barry_ that had lied. For some reason—though Oliver couldn't explain why—that just made it _worse_.

Finally, Oliver felt ready to face the music. He made his way over to Diggle, who looked at him with a stony expression.

“Tell me everything you know,” said Oliver.

The other man's jaw tensed in response.  "You're not going to like it," Diggle warned.

Oliver half-smiled thinly.  "Wasn't expecting to..."

Meanwhile, Felicity was running the blood test Oliver requested, and Barry suddenly took notice of the way the chemicals were organized on a shelf nearby. When he realized how they were ordered, a frown formed immediately.

“They have _nitric acid_ next to _hydrazine_? _Permanganates_ on top of _acetone_?” Barry exclaimed as he walked onto a platform. He grabbed and shook a couple bottles for emphasis. “This is the _definition_ of dangerous!”

“If it's so dangerous...maybe you shouldn't be touching them,” said Felicity.

“ _Yeah, because that's a fantastic idea,”_ Barry thought to himself while attempting to reorder the compounds into a safer arrangement.

Lightning flashed and thunder clapped, taking Barry's attention away for a split second. He felt like he needed to remember something he couldn't yet place his finger on. He didn't have a chance to really think about it, however, because Felicity called for his attention.

“Barry,” she said.

“Uh—yeah!” Barry quickly responded, glancing briefly at the blonde before resuming his self-tasked reorganization project.

“I managed to get a sample of the perpetrator's blood from the police department,” said Felicity. “We need to isolate a sedative in the blood. It could lead us to the thief.”

Barry frowned. “How did the police get it…?”

“Apparently the Vigilante shot him with an arrow,” Felicity replied.

That threw Barry. He immediately set down a bottle he'd been holding and looked at Felicity.

“You're kidding,” he said, jumping down from the platform and suddenly becoming quite animated. “You know what this means, right? This means the Vigilante's working the same case we are!”

“Heh...” Felicity breathed nervously. “Go figure…!”

Barry shook his head in disbelief. “Wh—how did _you_ get it?”

“Oliver has a lot of connections,” said Felicity.

“ _Of course...”_ Barry thought to himself as he chuckled aloud. “Pays to work for a billionaire,” Barry said, with a little bite of jealousy, though he didn't know towards what exactly.

“Actually...my take home's nothing special,” said Felicity. “Especially given I am rarely at home, since I'm with him every night.”

“A-ah...” Barry said, demeanor suddenly becoming somber. There was something that twisted in his gut when she said that. “Well, I didn't realize you and he were...”

“Oh, no! Work...” Felicity said, eyes slightly widened. “He and I are not... _no_. I do not like Oliver.”

Barry couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips when she said that. He breathed out a small sigh of relief, even though he didn't understand why he felt that way. He then turned away from Felicity to go back to his little project, when Felicity called for his attention once more.

“Um, I was invited to a work function?” she said.

Barry turned back around and listened to her.

“It's a party,” said Felicity.

Barry nodded. She smiled.

“And I have a plus one,” said Felicity. “I was thinking you would make a really good...plus one.”

It took Barry a second to register what the blonde was saying. He let out a soft chuckle when he realized what he had just been asked.If he were to be honest, he wasn't sure if he actually wanted to go.

“There's not going to be dancing, is there?” Barry asked then, trying to set up an excuse.  
  
He didn't have the heart to go through with it though, when Felicity's face fell. Barry quickly shook his head and turned it around.

“I'm just...not too good on my feet,” he said.

Felicity smiled. “No problem! I'll lead.”

“Right...” Barry said with a nod. “Sure.”

They eventually made their way back to Queen Consolidated. There, Barry's interest was captured by a news story playing on a monitor, which he watched with hands folded over his chest.

“ _Central City is just a day away from making history when the controversial S.T.A.R. Lab's particle accelerator is finally turned on.”_

He smiled at Felicity as the blonde walked around him.

“It's pretty cool, right?” he asked.

“You know there's been a hundred percent increase in earthquakes since they've turned on the Large Hadron Collider,” Felicity said, her tone playfully challenging.

Barry laughed lightly. “That data is... _misleading_ ,” he said.

“Oh, do tell!” Felicity said sharing in Barry's laughter.

Oliver caught the tail end of their conversation and marched towards them, frowning. “You know about misleading, don't you?” he asked tersely.

“What are you talking about…?” Felicity asked, humor quickly fading.

Oliver responded to her question while staring straight at Barry. “He's not from CSI...he's an assistant, whose bosses don't know you're in Starling.”

Barry's smile disappeared. _“_ _Oh shit...”_ he thought, heart sinking.

“And there is no similar case in Central City,” Oliver said, tone still angry. “So tell me, _Barry_...”

Then there came a slight hesitation on Oliver's part, when he felt heat spread in his right shoulder blade, momentarily distracting him, and surprisingly dissipating some of his anger. Instinct told him to be gentler, and though Oliver wanted to disagree, if there was one thing his experiences on the island taught him to trust, it was instinct.

“What are you really doing here…?” he asked finally, in a softer tone.

He watched as Barry dropped his gaze, muscles in his cheek pulsing. Finally, the younger man let out a sigh, shut his eyes for a second, and then looked over at Felicity.

“I told you my mom was murdered,” he said.

The fact that he looked at her irritated Oliver.

“By your _father_ ,” he said, knowing it was wrong to make the childish jab, just to bring Barry's attention back to him, but he had done it anyway.

Remorse warred with the feeling of being _pleased_ within Oliver when Barry marched towards him angrily.

“He _didn't_ do it!” Barry said pointedly.

“You said that the police didn't find the man who killed her…?” asked Felicity.

Barry let out another sigh and then looked back at the blonde. “The police think they did,” he said.

Oliver wasn't sure that he liked that Barry's attention had returned to Felicity again. Rather than say another biting remark, however, he settled for staring at Barry and hoping that the younger man's gaze would refocus on him.

“My dad has been serving a life sentence,” Barry said, eyes dropping and shaking his head. “They didn't believe me.”

“About what?” Felicity asked.

Barry paused for a moment before he began. “I was eleven,” he said, looking at Oliver at first, before deciding he needed Felicity as a more stable point. “One night...something just came into our house. Like a tornado. A _blur_.”

Oliver looked down to the ground as Barry spoke, contemplative. No internal warning bells went off. The kid was clearly telling the truth, but there was also something else. The story felt familiar; like he'd been told it at least one other time before.

Unlike Barry, Oliver was only just beginning to experience the residual memories from previous timelines, because he had only recently become aware of the younger man's existence. He saw a glimpse of himself, on a rooftop, talking to someone. He couldn't make out who; the image was just out of his grasp.

“Somewhere inside the blur...I saw a _person_ ,” Barry said, and Oliver never got a chance to delve deeper into his thoughts because then he felt the younger man's gaze on him. “My dad went to fight it. I _tried_ to get 'em, when suddenly…”

Barry shook his head and let out yet another soft sigh.

“I was _twenty blocks_ away from my house,” Barry said, somewhat bitterly. “ _Nobody_ believed me...”

He chuckled a little and shook his head.

“They thought I was trying to cover for my father,” Barry said. His tone towards Oliver became slightly more aggressive as he went on. “But what I saw that night…? Was _real_. As real as the man that ripped down that metal door with his bare hands...”

Then Oliver made the mistake of rolling his eyes and making an irritated noise. The older man couldn't figure out whether Barry was simply just trying to tell his story or also attempting to guilt him for being such an ass earlier at the same time. Regardless, his prideful reaction stung Barry, and the younger man dropped his gaze. Oliver's face immediately took on an apologetic expression. The area where his soulmark was located on his right shoulder blade ached as if in reprimand. Oliver couldn't explain the sudden urge to close the gap between them.

“ _To do what…?”_ Oliver found himself wondering.

“That's why I look into cases like this,” said Barry. “The ones nobody believes are possible.”

Not wanting to face another rejection-like response from Oliver, Barry redirected his focus once more to Felicity.

“Maybe if I can just make sense of _one_...I might be able to find out who _really_ killed my mother,” he said. “And free my dad.”

Barry's gaze then dropped once more to the floor, and his jaw flexed before he looked back up at Oliver.

“I am sorry I lied to you...” he said softly.

Oliver resisted the urge to reach out and quietly nodded. Barry then looked back at Felicity one last time.

“Better find another plus one,” he said before striding out of the room and towards the elevator.

Oliver felt the need to stop Barry, but he knew he couldn't actually justify it. He eventually glanced over at Felicity, hoping that he would get some kind of reassurance that he knew he wasn't likely to get.

“He did lie about who he really was.”

He wasn't surprised when Felicity wasn't at all sympathetic, and made him feel worse by scoffing at him.

“And what do _we_ do, every day?” she asked rhetorically before heading to the elevators herself.

Oliver looked somewhere off to the side and let out a sigh as he heard her footsteps grow fainter behind him. He stood there for what felt like forever. Then, he finally decided to move and make his way back to his car so that he could head back home.

Thoughts of Barry lingered in the back of his mind and continued to bother him the entire way home. The way Barry seemed so pained when forced to talk about the reason why he'd come out to Starling City. How everything the younger man said and did seemed to _affect_ him, in ways Oliver didn't quite understand.

The thoughts became so distracting, that Oliver finally had to just pull over to the side of the road at one point. He shut off his engine, placed his car in park, turned on his hazards, and then tapped his thumbs incessantly against the steering wheel for a moment, before coming to a decision.

He dug into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and quickly hit a number that was on speed dial. The person on the other end picked up right after the first ring.

“ _Hello?”_

“Diggle,” said Oliver. “I need Barry's number, if you can find it...”

“ _The kid from Central?”_ Diggle asked, and Oliver couldn't help but to roll his eyes. _“What for?”_

“I...have my reasons,” Oliver replied curtly. “Can you find it for me or not?”

“ _Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties all twisted,”_ Diggle muttered and Oliver heard some muffled background noise from the other man's end. After a minute, Diggle's voice came through again. _“All right, I've got it. Here it is.”_

“Great,” said Oliver.

He memorized the digits Diggle dictated, then hung up the phone and punched in the number he'd been given. There was a brief moment of hesitation where Oliver debated within himself whether or not he wanted to save Barry as a contact before he finally did, and then he pressed the command to call. The kid finally answered sometime after the third ring, which was a lot slower than Oliver would have liked.

“ _Uh...hello?”_

Oliver straightened in his seat and cleared his throat, glad he hadn't been forced to leave a voice mail.

“… _Barry_.”

“ _Who…?”_

Oliver felt his grip on his phone tighten a fraction. “It's Oliver...” he said. “Listen...I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier, I just...don't appreciate it when people aren't truthful with me...”

“ _Oh,”_ Barry said. _“Oh…!”_

Oliver grimaced. Barry began to stutter.

“ _A-ah, um...Oliver…!”_ Barry said. _“Hi...it's no problem. Uh...but how did you get my number…?”_

The older man's lips twitched slightly at one corner. “I had Diggle look you up.”

“ _Ah. Right. That makes total sense...”_ Barry said, and Oliver could almost see the younger man nod. _“So uh...how can I help you, Mr. Queen…?”_

Oliver felt his left eye twitch. “Just... _Oliver_ is fine,” he said.

“ _Y-yeah...o-okay…!”_ Barry responded quickly. _“Right...so…?”_

“I need you to come to my party,” said Oliver.

There was a pause on the other end. Oliver frowned.

“Barry…?”

“ _H-huh…? Y-yes! I'm still here…! S-sorry…!”_

“No problem...” Oliver said, with a half-smile. “So...would that be okay?”

“ _W-what…?”_ Barry asked. _“You're...you're asking **me** if it's okay to come to **your** party…?”_

“It's at the mansion,” Oliver said, choosing to ignore the younger man's tone of incredulity. “...can you make it?”

He honestly didn't know why he felt so nervous in waiting for Barry's response. After all, it shouldn't matter, whether or not the younger man would actually be able to come.

“ _I...”_

“Felicity still needs her plus one,” Oliver said before Barry could finish his sentence.

This time, when he heard Barry pause on the other end, Oliver felt a little surprised. If anything, he thought that Barry's response would be immediate upon mentioning Felicity. Apparently not. Oliver didn't know why he found that strangely comforting.

“ _Oh...Felicity. That makes sense...”_

Oliver also wasn't sure how to interpret that response. He then surprised himself further by responding automatically.

“I'd like to see you there...too.”

Oliver frowned, wondering where the words had come from. He listened to the younger man's breath on the other end hitch.

After a moment, Oliver tried again, gently. “Barry…?”

“ _Y-yeah…!”_ Barry said, and Oliver couldn't help but smile a little upon hearing his voice crack, just a bit. _“I-I can make it...what's the address?”_

Oliver immediately rattled off the address to the mansion and provided Barry with some general directions.

“Call me if you get lost...” Oliver said. “You have my number now.”

“ _R-right…! Cool. Thanks.”_

“Oh, and Barry?” Oliver said, just before hanging up.

“ _Y-yes, Oliver?”_ Barry asked.

Oliver half-smiled. “Don't be late,” he said, and then ended the call.

He then started up his engine, turned off his hazards, and made his way back onto the main road. He drove the rest of the way home with a much clearer conscience.

Once he got home, he began making the necessary preparations. First, he made sure everything was in order in the mansion's ballroom. He even made sure to instruct the bartender to card Barry when he saw him, even though he knew from talking to Diggle that Barry was actually of age. Oliver had been surprised to learn that Barry was only four years younger than him, meaning that the kid was twenty-four to Oliver's twenty-eight. It made Oliver feel less of something that he wasn't sure he was ready to understand just yet.

Eventually, once he was satisfied with all the preparations, and after instructing a few servants regarding the escorting of guests, Oliver made his way up the staircase to meet with his mother and sister, who were busy getting themselves ready in Moira's room. He knocked on his mother's door when he reached it.

“ _Who is it?”_

“It's me, Mom,” Oliver said.

“ _Oh! Come on in, darling,”_ his mother said, and Oliver did.

He smiled at both his mother and sister upon entering the room. “You both look great,” he said.

“Thanks, Ollie!” Thea said with a smile. “Are you ready to go, Mom?”

“As I'll ever be,” said Moira.

Oliver nodded and gave his mother a small smile. “Well, then,” he said. “Shall we get going?”

Moira smiled back. “Of course.”

The classical music could be heard playing as the three Queens made their way down the hall, with Oliver leading the way. As he made his way down the steps, Oliver noticed Felicity quickly, in her hot pink dress.

“ _Hey_ …!” Oliver said somewhat uncertainly, knowing he was probably still in a bit of hot water with his friend. “How's everything going in there?”

“Good evening, Queens…!” Felicity said with a smile, her statement mostly directed at Thea and Moira. She then took on a slightly more serious expression when looking at Oliver. “Can I have a word?”

“Yeah...” Oliver said, placing a hand lightly on Felicity's arm and guiding her gently over to the side. “I'm...sorry if I overreacted a little bit earlier.”

“Oh, you think?” Felicity said in a way that made Oliver wince inwardly. “Look, right now you need to apologize to your mother. Not me.”

“For what?” Oliver asked with a frown; he hadn't anticipated this turn in the conversation.

“Your being wrong,” Felicity said in a sympathetic tone that made Oliver's heart dropped as he slowly began to realize what she was getting at.

That bad feeling only increased when he saw the smiles on his mother's and sister's faces fade, and Oliver marched himself over to see for himself what they were looking into. He immediately felt sorry towards his mother upon seeing how empty the room was. He had expected that some people probably wouldn't show, but he hadn't expected the turnout to be _this_ low.

It was barely a comfort when his sister whispered her reassurances. “This is _not_ your fault, Ollie...”

Right around then was when Barry had arrived to the party. He had just come in from parking his car, and when he stepped inside the mansion, Barry couldn't help but to stop for a moment and take pause, to absorb it all in. He frowned when he began to feel slightly dizzy, and he placed a hand against a nearby wall. He squeezed his eyes once tightly, and when he opened them, suddenly everything around him seemed different. _Felt_ different. It felt like _home_.

“ _Barry…!”_

Barry blinked. He quickly realized he was having another one of those strange daydreams again; only this time, it felt so much stronger than usual.

Though Barry wasn't moving around in the mansion in real time, the him in his imagination _was._  In this fantasy, he was turning his head, looking up the stairs. Looking at the refined young man calling to him from the top. _Oliver_.

“Hey, everything all right?”

Barry let out a soft gasp. He looked up into slightly concerned blue eyes belonging to the man whose hand was placed on his shoulder.

“O-Oliver…!” Barry stammered, giving the older man a weak smile. “H-hey…! S-sorry I'm late...”

The corner of Oliver's lips quirked in a slight smile. “You're not...really,” he said.

Barry raised both eyebrows. “R-really…?” he said, voice slightly cracking. “Well... _that's_ a first…!”

Oliver chuckled and tilted his head slightly in the direction of the ballroom. “Party's that way...see you there soon?”

“Y-yeah,” Barry said with a nod. “Yes…!”

Oliver smiled. “Good...Felicity's waiting for you.”

Barry let out a soft sigh after Oliver had turned and walked away. “Felicity...” Barry mumbled to himself quietly. “ _Right_...”

Once back in the ballroom, Oliver stood somewhat to one side and allowed his eyes to scan the room. He then turned to look at the entrance, looking for Barry, only to become distracted by Felicity, who was slowly making her way towards him. Oliver kept his hands in his pockets and looked straight ahead, once she reached his side.

“Time for a dance?” he asked.

“Not really feeling like dancing with you, Oliver,” said Felicity.

Oliver half-smiled. “I know...” he said, slowly turning. “And _that_ is why...”

Had she known what to look for, she would have noticed the barest of pauses that Oliver took. He hadn't necessarily expected Barry to make his way to the ballroom entrance at that very moment, though it was definitely convenient that the younger man did. What interested Oliver, was that he almost felt like he had just somehow _known_ that Barry was behind them now, though this was a thought he didn't really have time to dwell on right then.

“...I called _him_ ,” Oliver said, not realizing he was eying Barry with a look of rather appreciative fondness.

Barry, on the other side, looked in and quickly spotted both Oliver and Felicity. Barry's eyes had immediately gravitated towards Oliver, and he did happen to take note of the small smile on the older man's face. It was yet another familiar interaction, far away and only somewhat forgotten. Barry's eyes then flitted towards Felicity, and he gave her a bit of an awkward smile.

“FYI—” Oliver said, leaning towards Felicity's ear and whispering into it. “They _will_ card him, at the bar...”

He then walked away with an unexplainable grin on his face. There was a playfulness to him that Oliver hadn't felt in a while. For some reason, Barry brought it out of him. It was a feeling from a previous time that he was only half-remembering.

Back then, there hadn't been a ball, though something had still taken place in this very ballroom, and it had been a much happier time. They'd been alone.

_Oliver had invited Barry over to his place when his parents had taken a trip out of town. Oliver hadn't officially come out of the closet yet, and Barry understood. After all, they both agreed that it was for the best, what with Oliver constantly being subjected to the limelight; something that Barry wasn't even yet sure if he was comfortable being a part of. Oliver would make their relationship public when Barry was ready to do so, and accept the potential consequences of being known as Oliver Queen's boyfriend. That was the deal that they'd decided on. Until then, they'd have to work with what they could._

_Barry laughed when Oliver dragged him into the ballroom. The servants they had passed on their way there had simply smiled—Oliver was beloved enough that they were all willing to keep quiet and turn a blind eye to what he and Barry were together._

_The younger man smiled and buried his head into Oliver's chest, shaking it. He pushed against Oliver's hands, which were clasped around his._

“ _No, no, no, no, no…!” Barry said, letting out more laughter. “This isn't going to end well, and you know it! I promise...I can't dance, Ollie. I've got two left-feet.”_

_Oliver chuckled and looked down at the younger man. “Hey, come on...” he said. “Look at me…!”_

_He smiled when Barry looked up at him shyly. The younger man moaned happily when Oliver surprised him and captured his lips for a quick kiss._

“ _Mm…! What was that for?” Barry asked when they broke apart._

“ _That...was to get you to relax,” Oliver said with an easygoing smile. “As for your dancing issue…!”_

_He gently guided Barry so that they were standing somewhat apart. Oliver then smiled at the younger man as he began to reposition the placement of Barry's hands._

“ _Just hold my hands,” said Oliver. “And sway. I'll lead. Don't worry about stepping on my toes...I. Don't. Care.”_

_Barry's face grew progressively more flushed as Oliver accented each of the last three words of his sentence with a kiss to some part of the younger man's face._

“ _Understood?” Oliver asked._

“ _Y-yeah...” Barry agreed with a nod. “O-okay...”_

“ _Good,” Oliver said, his expression for Barry, fond. “Now, count with me. One-two-three...one-two-three...one-two-three...”_

“ _R-right...” Barry stammered as he began to count along with the older man. “One-two—”_

In the present time, Felicity turned to face Barry when he approached her. The brunette's eyes were slightly downcast. What she didn't know, was that Barry felt an air of disappointment upon walking Oliver walk away.

“ _Hi_ …!” she and Barry both said to each other at the same time, once he had reached her.

Barry chuckled. “I was serious about not being able to dance,” he said. “But, I'll...hold your hands and... _sway?_ ”

Felicity smiled and laughed. “ _Sold_ ,” she said.

They began to move, and Barry's face went through a myriad of emotions. Felicity interpreted it as the brunette attempting to concentrate on his steps. Really though, Barry was struggling against the tug of certain feelings.  It was what he'd said to Felicity.  He'd meant the words, but at the same time felt as if he remembered being told them himself by someone.  By whom though and when, Barry didn't know.  Eventually, though, he shook away the thoughts.

It was funny, in a way, how their dancing quickly transformed into talk about work. At some point, Felicity's phone went off—the timer she had set to let her know the results of the blood test were ready—and both she and Barry quickly departed for the lab.

While there, Barry got a call from his boss in Central City. Thanks to Oliver and Diggle's prodding around, Barry now had a lot of explaining to do.

“Yes. Yes, sir, I— _yes_ , director. I know that this is not the first time,” Barry said, hand slowly reaching up to rub at his eyes. “ _Yes_ , sir! I _do_ value my job, very much…!”

He ignored the stare of concern he felt coming from Felicity's direction and continued pacing about the lab.

“Look, I will be on the next train,” he said, reassuring his captain. “Mmhmm…! I'll be back tonight. Okay. Thank—”

He sighed in defeat when Captain Singh hung up before he could properly end the call.

“ _Well,_ My boss found out I don't have food poisoning…” he said as he made his way over to Felicity. “I need to get back to Central City if I still want to be employed...which I _do_.”

He pulled his messenger bag over his head and Felicity smiled at him. Barry provided her with further instructions.

“Tell the SCPD that the sedative in the thief's blood is Ketamine. It's a...schedule three controlled substance,” he said, shaking his head at her a bit. “It shouldn't be too hard to track.”

“Yeah, I'll make sure they get it,” Felicity said with a nod.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you,” Barry said softly. He and Felicity then spoke up at the same time. “It was really nice—”

“Thank you for—”

They both chuckled and tried again, this time attempting to finish their sentences, which bore the same result.

“—working with you,” said Barry.

“—everything, We couldn't have done it,” Felicity said. “Without _you_...”

They both shared another awkward laugh and then Barry struggled to find the words as Felicity looked at him with an expression of expectancy. He knew the words she was hoping to hear, and he wanted to give them, but Barry just couldn't bring himself to do so.

“Good-bye, Felicity,” Barry finally decided to settle for saying.

He felt a little guilty when the blonde's face fell, but he steeled himself and walked away from her without spending any more time lingering.

“...good-bye,” Felicity whispered softly after him.

It was after this when she called Oliver and Diggle over to the foundry, to relay to them Barry's findings. She then cautioned Oliver to be careful when the man resolved to go after his target, who was hiding in a warehouse.

The fight, unfortunately, ended up not going as well as he'd hoped, and when the masked man threw Oliver back, he somehow got stuck with two needles containing a fast-acting poison. By the time Diggle and Felicity found him, Oliver was near death and with a weak pulse. Diggle's first instinct had been to call for help, but Felicity had another idea—one that wasn't necessarily _better_ , depending on who was being asked the question.

Meanwhile, Barry had rushed his way into the train station. He ran up to the man who was packing up to leave from behind the ticket counter.

“Hi!” Barry said as he approached. “Uh...one way to Central City.”

“It left ten minutes ago,” the old man replied.

“Of _course_ it did...” Barry said, sighing and hanging his head. “Um...when is the next one?”

“In the morning,” the old man said before walking off.

“Oh, geez...” Barry whispered to himself under his breath before heaving another sigh and making his way towards the public bench.

Almost as soon as he sat down, a dart flew seemingly out of nowhere and pegged him in the neck. Barry instantly reached up to his neck.

“Ahh...” he groaned, blinking his eyes a few times before his vision began to swim. “Ohh...” he breathed, before falling to his side and losing consciousness.

The dream that followed felt all too real. And if Barry were being honest—it was one he didn't mind taking his time in waking up from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter yet! At almost 21 full pages...crazy!! Though, most of it was in part due to my slash goggling of "The Scientist" episode! Looking forward to hearing what you guys think! A bit of a transitional chapter, coming up next! Stay tuned...!


	9. From the Time That They Forgot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...the reader who this fic is dedicated to has spoken!! No ColdFlash will be happening in this fic, though I may come up with something in a different fic, later on! As for the other question I asked...no responses on that yet, so I'm just going to table that for now!
> 
> Anyway, moving right along!! :D Mini-spoilers here for _Arrow_ 's SE02E09 “Three Ghosts” here!

At the verge of death, Oliver dreamt of the beginning. The real one, that was. The very first.

_He was driving a Porsche. Tommy wasn't with him at the time; that was who he would eventually be meeting. At a club. That wouldn't be until the evening. For now, Oliver was just driving; no particular destination in mind. At least, he didn't think so, anyway._

_He'd eventually pulled up in front of a coffee shop downtown. Jitters. It was definitely out of character for him, that much he knew—even then. Then again, Oliver remembered. He had been inspired to try something new, and he had somehow felt drawn to the place. Parking his car, Oliver had then slipped his keys into his pocket and then went inside._

_The interior of the coffee shop was nice enough; Oliver found himself appreciating the atmosphere. He let his eyes take a quick sweep of the room. He wasn't just here for coffee, he was looking for something. Who or what though, he didn't know; Oliver just knew that he needed to be here._

_He didn't have to wait long for his answer. As he made his way towards the counter to order, Oliver bumped into someone. A young man, tall and lean, clumsily ran right into his chest._

“ _Oof…!” the brunette said, voice somewhat muffled at first before looking up. “I'm sorry, I—oh wow.”_

_Oliver felt his breath catch the moment his eyes met the young man's striking green ones. It was Barry._

“ _You're…!” the younger man breathed. “Oliver Queen…!”_

_Then it happened; the searing heat in his shoulder. Both men winced slightly, and then Barry shook his head slightly, regarding Oliver in awe._

“ _No way...” he whispered, voicing the same thought Oliver was thinking. “We're…?”_

“ _Hi,” Oliver said, tilting his head slightly to one side and feeling his lips curl into a small smile. “What did you say your name was…?”_

“ _O-oh, I didn't, uh...Barry,” the younger man stammered. “B-Barry Allen.”_

_Oliver felt himself nod. “Barry...” he repeated softly._

_He felt himself smirk when the younger man flushed and shivered in his arms._

None of this made sense to the Oliver of the current time. He didn't understand why he was having this dream, nor why it felt so right. Even though it felt like the truth, Oliver wasn't sure he believed it. After all, he hadn't known Barry before his appearance in Starling City, at least, not from what he could recall. He also hadn't felt the same level of heat from his shoulder when he'd first made eye contact with Barry.

“ _But there was still heat...”_ a voice in the back of his mind whispered.

Oliver ignored the thought. Part of him wanted to walk away from all this, but there was also the other part of him that was curious to see more. That latter sentiment won, and soon the scenery changed, taking him to the courtyard behind the Queen mansion. Then, he found himself holding someone's hand. _Barry's_ hand.

_Barry looked over at him and smiled. “It's so peaceful out here, Oliver,” he said with a slight chuckle. “And green.”_

“ _Like your eyes,” Oliver said, pulling Barry close and positioning the younger man in front of him so that he could nuzzle the brunette's neck. “Beautiful. Like you...”_

“ _Mm, Ollie…!” Barry whined._

Then, before Oliver could reply or even begin to absorb and understand what it was he was looking at, the scene quickly changed again, ripping the current, tranquil one in two. Suddenly, Oliver was fighting something. Fiercely.

“ _Wake up, Oliver...!”_

Oliver was shooting arrows, rapidly, but then his bow and arrows were knocked right out of his hands. Growling, he charged after whoever it was that he was fighting—he couldn't really make out the face—angrily.

“ _Wake up.”_

Then Oliver did. His eyes flew open, and his first instinct was to shoot his hand forward, grabbing someone by the neck. Choking them.

“ _Huaa…!_ ” Barry gasped. His eyes grew wide and he looked at both Diggle and Felicity frantically, barely able to get the word out. “ _He...lp_ …!”

“ _Oliver!_ ” Diggle shouted as he shot forward and pulled Oliver off the younger man.

“What the _hell_ is going on…?” Oliver growled, still trying to orient himself.

His mind was still a flurry of thoughts when he looked over at Barry, who had begun to explain how it was Oliver's life had been saved. It was hard to make sense of everything.

Barry took a moment to try and catch his breath. It was surreal, he thought, just how much things had changed for him in just the last few hours.

Right before Barry had woken up from his own daze and got asked by Felicity to save Oliver's life, he had also been dreaming. When Barry dreamed, it had been about somewhere around the middle.

_They were on a beach this time. That was new. Barry knew he should have felt surprised, upon seeing Oliver beside him, but somehow he wasn't. The older man smiled at him, and Barry couldn't help wanting to smile back. He reached out a hand and lightly trailed his fingers down Oliver's arm._

“ _I wish you didn't have to go...” he whispered._

“ _I know...” Oliver replied with a small smile. “But my dad's pretty excited about us taking this trip.”_

_Barry felt his cheeks grow warm when Oliver took hold of his hand and pressed a kiss against his knuckles._

“ _You know...” Oliver said. “You could always just come with me…?”_

_Barry laughed. “And tell your father what?”_

“ _The truth,” Oliver said, tone serious._

_Barry squirmed nervously. “Oh, Ollie, I...”_

_He felt guilty when Oliver sighed, looking at him fondly as he raked his hands through Barry's hair. The younger man leaned into the touch._

“ _I'm ready,” said Oliver. “You know I've been...”_

“ _Yeah...” Barry agreed with a small nod._

_Oliver let out another sigh. “I just can't help wondering when **you'll** be...”_

Then the scene changed before Barry could reply. Suddenly he felt overcome with feelings of despair and distress. He was shaking uncontrollably. Something warm and wet slid down his cheeks. It took Barry a second to realize that he was crying. Someone was holding him.  A woman.  Brown hair.  Cut short.  Maybe even a little wavy.  He couldn't really make out the face.

“ _It's not your fault, Barry! Don't blame yourself! It's not your fault…!”_

Barry frowned. He remembered this. Oliver had gone on a trip. The Queen's Gambit had sunk. It was the same memory, and yet altogether different.

“ _He asked me to go with him…! Oh, god...I should have gone with him…!”_

Barry groaned as he slowly rose from his unconscious state. It took him several moments to realize what it seemed like he was looking at, and he let out a small laugh of disbelief, wondering if he was still dreaming.

Then he turned his head and noticed someone was lying on a table, and Barry's eyes trailed from the mysterious man's black boots, up his green pants, and all the way to the man's face. When Barry saw that the man was _Oliver_ , he felt his brows furrow together in confusion. He was further thrown by the fact that Diggle was now also standing beside Oliver. His thoughts began to whir, and things began clicking into place at a speed that felt like a mile a minute.

“ _The Hood is…! Oliver is…?!”_   he thought to himself.

He didn't have long to dwell on this sudden discovery, however, because then _Felicity_ , of all people, approached him. She wore a somber expression.

_“Please save my friend.”_

Barry took in a breath and slowly pushed himself up into a straighter sitting position. He couldn't believe any of this was happening, and yet, it _was_.

Oliver was The Hood, Diggle and Felicity were both working for him, and here Barry was, somehow waking up in the Vigilante's lair. Only one thought crossed Barry's mind as he tried his best to process this sudden flood of information.

“ _No fucking way...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this one is so short!! Next one should be longer...though that means it's more than likely going to take me a while again in order for me to plug it all out! (Hopefully not too long though!)


	10. Never Meet Your Heroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy spoilers for _Arrow_ 's SE02E09 “Three Ghosts” in this chapter!
> 
> For those wondering why the fic is being set up in this way, trust that it is all buildup for something greater!! Stay tuned!! Significant rewrites of various episodes coming up next, as we start really rolling away from the series canons!!

The minute Barry realized what Felicity was asking of him, he sprung into action. He'd panicked at first; shocked that Oliver was dying, and that Oliver was the Arrow. It was all a lot to take in. His mind had blanked, initially, but then Felicity brought him back to his senses. 

“ _Barry!”_

Right. He had to save Oliver. Barry went through all the possible diagnosis quickly. He eventually discovered that Oliver's blood was unusually clotting. It would require a blood thinner. Luckily, he'd noticed the box of rat poison. It obviously wasn't the most ideal option, but Barry figured that it would have to do. He'd understood Diggle's alarm, but he hadn't had time to explain the science to him. Barry just _did_ , and his actions eventually paid off. He'd saved Oliver's life. Barry could have left then, but he had chosen to stay. He wanted to make sure that Oliver truly was in the clear, and he'd been agitated while waiting; worried. So much so, that he decided to distract himself by pulling the oils of the older man's attacker of his neck. Oliver thanked him for this by nearly choking Barry to death upon waking. Fortunately for the younger man, Diggle was there to pull the Vigilante off him. 

“What the _hell_ is going on?” Oliver growled angrily while Barry was busy trying to catch his breath.

“You were injected with a strong-acting blood coagulant,” Felicity explained. 

Barry coughed and rose from the stool he had briefly leaned upon, explaining things further. “You would have stroked out,” Barry said, taking a brief pause to clear his throat. “But fortunately, you had a very effective blood thinner handy... _Warfarin_...better known as _rat poison_.” 

Figuring Oliver would probably react the same way he did when Barry had first suggested it, Diggle quickly chimed in. “Kid _saved your life_ , Oliver.” 

Oliver looked at Barry, still somewhat confused by everything. The dream—of which the details were now rapidly escaping him—being told that he had just had a near-death experience, and that he'd been saved by none other than _Barry_ , who had only not too long ago not known that Oliver was actually Starling City's Vigilante. It was an overload of information, and that was putting it all rather mildly. Then, once realizing the situation he was in, he angrily rounded on his team, upset that his identity had been leaked to someone he wasn't entirely sure that he could trust. 

“What happens if he leaves here and goes straight to the police?” he asked Felicity. 

Barry frowned. It bothered him, the way Oliver was acting as if he weren't really there. 

“He wouldn't do that,” said Felicity. 

“I-I wouldn't do that,” Barry agreed, eying Oliver with a bit of a hurt expression on his face. 

“I trust him,” said Felicity. 

“I _don't!_ ” Oliver shouted. 

Barry's gaze dropped away from Oliver briefly and he tried to ignore the brief pang in his chest. This wasn't how he expected things to go. 

“What are you going to do?” Felicity said, challengingly. “Put an arrow in him?” 

“I _am_ considering it!” Oliver growled, glaring at Barry. 

Barry felt himself shake a little, feeling both unsettled and offended by how Oliver was acting towards him. 

“ _Don't worry!_ He's _kidding!_ ” Felicity ground out, trying to give Barry a reassuring glance before looking back at Oliver. “How is this any different from when your mother shot you and you came to me for help?” 

“Your mother _shot_ you…?” Barry asked incredulously. 

Oliver looked over at Barry and held up a finger, telling him to wait. Felicity continued to barrage him. 

“Or when you brought _Dig_ down here, when he was poisoned with curare?!” 

“Well the difference is, that _I_ did my homework on _both of you!_ ” Oliver shouted before letting out a sigh of frustration and bringing his speech volume down to a more acceptable tone. “I don't just _tell_ people, easily...” 

Barry frowned. “Uh, I-I'm not gonna tell _anyone?_ ” Barry said, staring angrily at Oliver and taking a few steps forward. “And you don't have to thank _me_ , but you _should_ thank _her_ , instead of being _kind of_ a jerk.” 

He shrank back a little when Oliver rounded on him. The older man crowded into his space, and Barry couldn't help but to gulp. 

There was an instant of electricity between them. Oliver found himself confused by the sudden urge to slam Barry back onto something, and Barry just barely stopped himself from reaching out his hand, to touch Oliver's face. 

“Mr. Queen...” he said finally, in a hushed voice. 

To his surprise, Oliver didn't say anything at all. Instead, both men stared at each other silently for a time, and for a moment the only sound was of Oliver's harsh breathing and the noise being made by the older man's cell phone. It gave Barry a moment to piece a couple things together. 

“ _Oliver and the Hood are the same...”_ Barry mused to himself. _“So I guess that explains the similar reaction I've been having to both, but then...”_

It still didn't make sense, Barry realized. Oliver was showing no signs that he felt anything towards Barry at all. If they _were_ soulmates, then he figured Oliver would have felt something the first time that they'd met, and that he would have said something by now. The fact that he hadn't told Barry that he was starting to get a little too caught up in his private fantasies. The ones that were starting to feel progressively more real, the more time he spent with Oliver. 

“ _But what if they aren't just fantasies?”_ a little voice whispered in the back of his mind.

He unintentionally held his breath, when Oliver passed him by, their arms almost brushing. Barry felt that feeling of a spark pass between them again, and he began to give what the little voice in his mind was saying a little more consideration. It certainly wasn't _impossible_. At the very least, Barry thought, it was perhaps worth further exploration.

The older man had received a call and had to return back home. Before he could, Barry reached for the sample he'd pulled off Oliver earlier.

“He, uh...touched your skin when he grabbed your neck,” he said as Oliver turned one last time and gave the Barry his attention. “I was able to absorb the residual oils from his skin, _which_ , when added to a gel-based polymer, _might_ be able to recreate his fingerprint.”

Oliver simply nodded at Barry without giving him a verbal response, and then turned around and walked away. Barry chuckled a little, because he realized that was probably as close to an apology as he was ever going to get from the Vigilante.

He heard Felicity's heels click as she walked up behind him. “Never meet your heroes, right?” she whispered, somewhat sourly.

Barry looked at her and then back in the direction that Oliver had gone and sighed, lips slightly twitching at the corners. Part of him felt like it was okay to smile. He knew Felicity didn't understand, but Barry thought that he might be starting to. 

As things calmed down at the foundry, Barry found himself settling in and taking a look around the place. He was a scientist. To find the answers he sought, Barry knew he'd need to make observations, take notes, and experiment when necessary. He spent a few moments looking at Oliver's suit, and then he clasped his hands behind his back, directing a gleeful statement at Diggle. 

“I _knew_ the Vigilante had partners.”

“He likes to be called The Arrow now,” Diggle replied. 

“ _The Arrow…! Right. Got it!”_ Barry thought to himself with a bit of excitement as he filed away that information. He continued on aloud as he kept walking about the room. “You three have messed with some really nasty people. Y'know—the _Dollmaker_...Count Vertigo...Dodger…! The _Huntress…_?”

Diggle looked over in Barry's direction, looking somewhat impressed. “We weren't keeping score,” he said.

Barry glanced over his shoulder briefly. “Wh— _I_ was,” he said with a small smile.

And he looked upon those memories with fondness.  The countless days he had spent, taking note of each criminal the Vigilante had brought to justice.  To know the Hood's identity, and to have the very privilege of being in the man's lair now, it was all quite surreal.

“... _Barry!_ ” 

The brunette's head immediately snapped towards the direction of Oliver's voice. His mouth opened slightly as the older man marched towards him. The Vigilante always seemed to have a way of causing Barry to lose his words. 

“The rat poison you gave me...” said Oliver. “Are there any side effects?”

“N—” Barry started to say and then he felt the need to close his eyes when Oliver swooped in on him, just a little too close, so that he could concentrate. “Uhm...y-yeah, I think...h-hallucinations, maybe? _And_ excessive sweating...are you _sweating?_ Excessively?”

Oliver let out a small sigh and turned around to face Felicity, who had placed a hand on one of his arms.

“You're hallucinating…?” she asked. “What are you seeing?”

Concerned, Barry paid attention to Oliver's response. He felt a twinge of disappointment when the older man mentioned a girl's name, but Barry immediately latched on to the fact that Oliver mentioned having been on an _island_.

“You _did_ train in a jungle or forest environment…!” Barry said as he excitedly moved himself in front of Oliver, smiling at him. “Hence the green…!”

The older man sighed inwardly and closed his eyes once in annoyance before opening them and giving Barry a hard stare. The smile quickly faded from the younger man's expression.

“Hey, let me draw some blood,” Barry said, more than willing to change the subject. “See what's up.” 

Barry led the way, and Oliver wordlessly followed. Of course, as much as he tried, Barry couldn't help himself. 

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Oliver kept his expression devoid of humor, watching Barry as he reached for disinfectant and a needle. Barry looked up at the older man and shook his head a little.

“Why no mask?” he asked as he began to clean part of Oliver's arm, which the older man had stretched out towards him. “Uh...not to tell you how to do your vigilante...ing...but y—uh, the grease paint thing? Yeah...it's a, uh, poor identity concealer.” 

And Barry couldn't help the feeling of concern that welled within him when he thought about the consequences that could follow if the Arrow's true identity were to get leaked. Oliver looked away from Barry for a moment and sighed before looking down at his arm and then at the younger man. 

“So find me a mask that conforms to my face perfectly and doesn't affect my ability to aim while I'm on the run,” he said. 

Barry's eyes lit up instantly at the challenge. “You should look into a compressible micro fabric,” he said with smile a smile that reached his eyes. “It could be great..!” 

He felt himself slowly rising from his seat and unconsciously leaning towards Oliver. Then Felicity interrupted them by announcing that she had found Cyrus Gold. 

Oliver left with Diggle shortly after that, and Barry's eyes trailed after Oliver as he watched the men leave. He then slowly turned around and noticed Felicity's gaze was on him. He took in a short breath. 

“Don't worry,” he said with a shake of his head, lips curling into a small smile. “I'll figure out what's wrong with Oliver.” 

“You'd be the first,” Felicity quickly replied, deadpan. 

Barry chuckled and turned back to his work. _“The first, huh?”_ Barry thought to himself with a small smile on his face. _“Can't say I don't like the sound of that...”_

Eventually, all Barry had left to do was to wait for the analysis of the blood sample to complete, so he decided to distract himself with another experiment in the meantime. Before he knew it, his mind wandered into yet another daydream. 

_He was working with a few chemical compounds, like he was now. He smiled when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind; when familiar arms wrapped around his waist, and when soft lips pressed against his neck. Barry didn't have to look to know that it was Oliver, but he looked because he wanted to **see** Oliver. A fuzzy warmth spread through his chest upon seeing the older man smiling at him._

_“Hey, Barr!” said Oliver. “I thought I might find you down here...what are you working on?”_

Before Barry could reply, he was suddenly brought back to reality when he heard the clacking of heels against the floor. He looked up at Felicity when she approached him.

“What are you doing?” she asked. 

“Uh, just messing around with something,” Barry said, shaking his head and taking off his protective eye-wear.

Felicity half-smiled. “Shouldn't you be trying to figure out what's causing Oliver's hallucinations?” 

Barry nodded and gestured towards his left. “Sample's still being scanned. Shouldn't be too much longer,” he said. He was even starting to consider running some blood tests on himself, the way his brain constantly seemed to be coming up with storylines between himself and Oliver. “You're really worried about him, huh?” 

“He takes crazy chances,” said Felicity. “Even when he's not hallucinating about beautiful island girls...” 

“Hmm…!” Barry said, making an exaggerated gesture with his head and then chuckling softly into his hand. He couldn't say he didn't understand her sentiments. “The other night, I asked if you liked Oliver…?” 

Felicity sat up a bit straighter in her seat. “I told you. I don't.”

 “I remember,” Barry said with a chuckle. “ _But_... _if_ you _did_...I could see why.” 

Because he could. Barry realized that he couldn't even deny that anymore. 

“I mean, _Oliver Queen_ ,” Barry said with a light laugh. “He is a billionaire by day, and saves the city by night.” 

Felicity smiled back at him and laughed. “Wh—sounds like _you_ want to date him…!”

Her brows pinched together a little when she said it. She felt an odd tug in the back of her mind; a feeling like she'd just uncovered something huge, but couldn't seem to place a finger on what it was she'd discovered.

Barry chuckled and shyly rubbed at his nose. “I just...” he said, offering Felicity a small smile. “...have a little experience with liking someone who doesn't see you the same way.”

Had Joe heard him admit that, he might have assumed Barry was talking about Iris. Barry's hesitation towards pursuing anything with Iris, however, had always stemmed more from simply not wanting to ruin a friendship. It was because somewhere, deep down, Barry remembered a previous timeline where he'd been married to Iris. And though he wouldn't have been able to say that he wasn't happy, he also hadn't been _complete_. Something he had realized when he and Oliver had first crossed paths in that lifetime—too late. 

Barry glanced at his watch and was grateful in seeing what time it was. He reached around Felicity and hit a button on the computer, which brought up a live news feed just outside S.T.A.R. Labs. The reporter on screen mentioned that people should be preparing for a final countdown towards the launching of the particle accelerator. Disappointing as it was for Barry, it was a welcome change of subject. 

He leaned back in his seat and sighed. “I guess I won't be back in time to see them turn it on.” 

He exchanged warm smiles with Felicity, and they watched the news feed in silence for a bit longer. When the coverage had ended, Barry broke the silence. 

“So...any plans, for Christmas?” he asked. 

“Lighting my menorah,” Felicity said while twirling a bit of her hair with her fingers. 

She was a sweet girl, Barry thought to himself. For a moment he entertained the thought that perhaps he would be better off focusing his attentions on someone like her. After all, that seemed far more realistic. 

“ _Hey_ ,” Oliver said as he marched into the room, and any idea Barry had been entertaining to force his growing feelings away from the older man pretty much flew out the window. 

“Hi!” Felicity said as she spun around in her chair to face Oliver. Barry couldn't help noting that the blonde seemed to share his problem. “How are you feeling?”

“ _Fine._   Just...it's a little bit crowded at my house, and I wanted to come down here to get a little privacy,” Oliver said, looking mostly at Felicity, but sparing a brief glance at Barry. 

It was his roundabout way of asking Barry to stay, though he couldn't explain why that felt appropriate. He was pleased to find that Barry seemed to share the same sentiment; the younger man looked away and pretended to busy himself with something, and Oliver wasn't planning to call him out on it. Felicity, on the other hand, failed to read the mood.

“Yeah,” she said, smiling at Oliver before talking to Barry over her shoulder. “Come on, Barry. We can watch the countdown at Big Belly Burger.” 

It was one of those rare instances where Oliver felt a tad annoyed with the blonde. Barry also appeared to get up reluctantly. 

“You're blood analysis is almost done,” he told Oliver. 

“Thank you...” Oliver said, frowning a bit as Barry and Felicity walked away. 

When the pair of scientists made it to the restaurant, Barry seemed agitated. Felicity didn't take notice until Barry appeared to be more interested in checking his watch than he did watching the news on the particle accelerator being broadcasted on a few of the restaurant's television screens. 

Felicity tilted her head slightly and looked at Barry. “Hey,” she said. “You all right, there?” 

“Hm?” Barry said, looking at her as if he was just noticing her for the first time. “O-oh. Yeah. Fine. Everything's great.”

“Mm...you don't look like everything's fine?” Felicity said, brows knitting together. “You sure you don't want to talk about it?” 

Barry shook his head. “I'm fine,” he insisted. “Nothing's going on.” 

Felicity watched Barry for a few moments while they both waited for their food, then she came to a decision. Barry jumped slightly when Felicity slapped her hands on the table. 

“All right, here's an idea,” Felicity said with a smile. “When our server comes back, how about asking her to pack our food up to go?” 

“H-huh…?” Barry asked, trying not to sound too eager. “Wh—are...are you sure?” 

“Absolutely!” said Felicity.

Barry laughed a little, relieved. They took their to-go bags after paying their check and then headed back to the foundry. Both frowned when they noticed Oliver sweeping up broken glass. 

“What happened in here?” Felicity asked, looking at an unamused Diggle. “Did someone break in?” 

Oliver sighed. “No.” 

Barry checked the monitor analyzing the older man's blood sample when the computer beeped. 

“Uh, your blood analysis is done!” he said, looking over at Oliver. “Good news.”

“So you know what's in my system?” Oliver asked as he walked over. 

Barry raised his eyebrows and looked up at Oliver. “Ah, wh—th-that's the thing,” Barry said, clapping his hands together. “Your blood's _clean_...there's nothing wrong with you.” 

“Then _why_ am I hallucinating?!” Oliver growled. 

“I-I don't know,” Barry said softly. “Ah—but whatever it is, it's not pharmacological, it's psychological. It's—” 

“It's in my head,” Oliver said at the same time Barry told him the same. 

Which wasn't as farfetched as Oliver would have viewed the whole situation before meeting Barry. Now, he didn't know what to think, especially since he was also having strange dreams recently. He didn't have long to wonder over it, however, because soon Felicity called his attention to Detective Lance's situation, which meant Oliver needed to pay the man a visit.

In doing so, Detective Lance had provided Oliver with a key, which the Vigilante then gave to Barry and Felicity to analyze. While he waited for their results, Oliver decided to distract himself by sharpening a few arrowheads. Soon, he became lost in thought.

His thoughts gravitated towards Barry, as they always seemed to be as of late. Oliver couldn't remember the last time he had felt such complex feelings towards another human being. He was still in the process of sorting them all out and understanding them. 

“I think those are sharp enough,” Diggle said, his voice breaking into the Vigilante's thoughts. 

Oliver stopped sharpening the arrow he was holding and sighed. Nothing was making sense for him these days. 

Talking to Diggle helped, some. The man always seemed to come through with the right philosophical babble at the most appropriate times.

 _Figure out what your ghosts are trying to tell you._ That was along the lines of what Diggle told him to do. That advice stuck with Oliver as he eventually left to fight. He couldn't help wondering if perhaps all the strange occurrences he was experiencing were connected somehow.

In the next few hours, he experienced a hallucination of Tommy, defeated Cyrus Gold, and saved his little sister's boyfriend for what seemed to be the millionth time. The kid was starting to feel like a younger brother that just couldn't seem to keep himself out of trouble. He ended up taking Roy back to the Queen mansion, made up some plausible excuse to tell his sister, and then returned to the foundry. He wanted to talk to his team and, if Oliver were being honest, he wanted to see Barry. When he returned, though, he was disappointed to find out the younger man wasn't there. 

“He went back to Central City. Wanted to get home in time to see them turn on the particle accelerator,” Felicity explained before walking over to pick up her buzzing phone. She smiled. “I should take this.” 

Oliver feigned disinterest, but in reality, he strained to hear. He'd never admit to it bothering him, that Barry hadn't chosen to call him instead. The kid had his number, after all.

The conversation between the two had been easygoing at the start. Barry had even implied that he'd be willing to take Felicity on a date, should her pursuit of Oliver fall through. The blonde's smile faded, however, when there was a subtle shift in both Barry's tone and the conversation they were having. 

“ _Oh, hey, and I-I left something for Oliver,”_ Barry said. _“I hope he likes it.”_

It was then that Felicity noticed the box covered in newspaper on the table before her. Something stirred in the back of her mind, like a premonition. She chose then to end the call. 

“Bye Barry,” she said. 

_“Bye Felicity.”_

After hanging up the phone, Barry then turned on the news feed covering the launch of the particle accelerator. Everything seemed to be going perfectly, but then he frowned when the reporter became frantic, just before a sudden blackout. Then there was an explosion, and Barry's eyes widened as he slowly looked over his computer screen in disbelief. 

“ _Something isn't right here,”_ said a little voice in the back of his mind. _“Move, Barry. Move.”_

And Barry did. He moved quickly towards some chains hanging from the ceiling and began to pull, but hesitated when he noticed that the liquids in the room were starting to float up into the air. He didn't have time to wonder over the oddness of what he was seeing for long, however, for then a bolt of lightning crashed overhead, shattered the glass portion of the ceiling, and connected with Barry, thrusting him back into a coma.

At about the same time in Starling City, Oliver opened the box that Felicity handed him, and he regarded the mask that he pulled out of it. Vaguely recalling the conversation he'd had with Barry regarding a mask, Oliver found that the one he was now holding in his hand surprisingly met his specifications to the letter. He was admittedly impressed, though he realized he probably should have known better than to doubt Barry by that point.

“Even the Arrow deserves a Christmas present,” Diggle said, his statement causing a small smile to form on Oliver's face. 

“Here,” Felicity said as she walked around Oliver and took the mask from him. 

Oliver wanted to protest, but he realized he had no legitimate reason to prevent her from helping him put it on. He was pleased to find that the mask truly did conform perfectly to his face. In fact, the material was so light, it felt almost as if he weren't wearing anything at all. 

“How do I look?” Oliver asked finally. 

“Like a hero,” Felicity replied, smiling at him.

Oliver then threw his hood up over his head, ready to go on his next mission. He frowned for a moment when he felt a heat spread through his right shoulder blade, but he didn't think too much of it at the time.


	11. In a World Gone By

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realize I tend to make things funnier in my head, but I swear my sides are constantly aching from how hilarious these comments are readers are leaving. I have found that I've always been very fortunate to find readers that are very encouraging and enthusiastic. Thanks so much!!
> 
> This chapter is possibly a pilot for a potential companion fic to this series that would contain scenes here and there of Oliver and Barry's relationship in the very first, original timeline that I've been imagining, but we'll see! I don't want to risk diluting the quality of this story by taking on more than I can actually handle writing. 
> 
> Some spoilers here for _The Flash_ , SE01E20 “The Trap” here! Just as a heads up, I've changed the order of some scenes.
> 
> Anyway, hope you all enjoy this chapter as well!!

For nine months, Barry dreamed. Or rather, he _remembered_. And it most certainly felt _real_.

“ _Barry!”_

_He turned to see who was calling him, and his lips tugged upwards into a smile when recognized who did. “Ollie…!”_

_Ollie. Not Oliver. Not Mr. Queen. It wasn't strange at all, calling him that, Barry realized. In fact, it felt normal._

_It was interesting though, how this Oliver looked different. Barry had dreamt of Oliver like this before; longer hair, definitely more blonde, and a boyish demeanor. Without thinking, Barry reached out his arms. Before he could touch any part of Oliver's body, however, the entire world before Barry suddenly went dark, and he panicked._

Meanwhile, in the real world, Barry flatlined in Central City Hospital for the first time. When the doctor's brought him back, the scene he'd been a part of earlier was replaced with a different one.

_First he was in a limousine, sitting across from a woman with brown hair. Then, when it had stopped moving and the driver had placed the limo in park, Barry opened a door and shot out of the vehicle. He was running towards a pier._

_“Oh my god, Oliver…!”_

_Familiar blue eyes looked up at him and there was a spark of recognition followed by a raspy whisper. “Barry...”_

_And Barry rushed into the older man's arms, not caring if he was hugging Oliver just a little too tightly. He buried his face in Oliver's chest as his body trembled with overwhelming emotion._

_“Oh, Ollie...I'm sorry…! I'm so sorry...”_

_He felt Oliver shake his head. “For what, Barry…?”_

_“For not going with you—I…!”_

_“Shhh...” the older man soothed as he ran a hand absently up and down Barry's back. When Oliver pressed his chapped lips against the side of Barry's face, it only caused the man to sob even harder. “Don't say that, okay…? It's all right now, Barry...I'm here...I'm back...that's all that matters.”_

_Barry responded by gripping at part of the back of Oliver's shirt a bit more tightly. The older man released a soft sigh._

_"Did you bring a car here?”_

_“Yeah, it's right—”_

_Then suddenly they were surrounded by reporters, and there was a barrage of flashing camera lights._

_“Mr. Queen…! If you could please provide us with a statement—”_

_“How does it feel to be back in Starling City?”_

_“What have you been doing for the last five years?”_

_The voices around them seemed rather loud in Barry's ears as he and Oliver pushed against the crowd and made their way towards the limo._

In Central City Hospital, for the second time that day, Barry went into cardiac arrest, and subsequently, the hospital lost power.

“I don't understand!” the doctor overseeing his case exclaimed as his team got to work. “How can he be seizing…?! He has no heart rhythm…!”

When they once again recovered Barry, the scientist was experiencing yet another residual memory. This time, he was sharing the same bed as Oliver.

_At some point in the evening, the windows of Oliver's room at the mansion had flung open from the sheer force of the storm that was happening outside. Barry jolted awake at the sound of Oliver screaming beside him. The younger man threw his arms over the older, in an attempt to comfort._

_“Ollie! Wake up…! You're just dreaming, Oliver...”_

_Barry gently rocked the older man back and forth and continued whispering into Oliver's ears soothingly until the man finally opened his eyes and started gasping for breath._

_“Where am I…? What—Barry…? Barr…?”_

_“Yeah, I'm right here, Ollie...” Barry said, peppering kisses down the side of the older man's face. “Right here...you were just having a bad dream...that's all...just a bad dream...”_

_Outside, the thunder crashed and the lightning flashed brightly._

According to the machines at Central City Hospital, Barry had flatlined yet again. This process would continue until the doctors were finally able to get Barry somewhat stable, and even then, they would only be given roughly a day's reprieve.

Back in Starling City, Oliver had returned to the foundry after assisting the police with a few smaller crimes from the shadows. With the way his right shoulder had been bothering him for most of that day, Oliver hadn't really been in the mood for too much else. He had frowned upon noticing how rattled Felicity appeared after she'd gotten off the phone—Oliver had arrived just as she was concluding the call.

He glanced over at the blonde as he started putting his weaponry away. “Everything all right there, Felicity…?”

“No...no, Oliver, it's not,” Felicity said tearfully, shaking her head. “I...I just got off the phone with...it's... _oh god_ …!”

“What…? Whoa, hey...Felicity, get a hold of yourself,” Oliver said, abandoning what he was doing and walking over to the blonde, placing his hands on her shoulders. “What is it…? What's going on…?”

“I-it's _Barry…_!” she blubbered in response.

Oliver's eyes widened a fraction; Felicity's words causing his blood to run cold. He felt another sudden flare of warmth spread through his right shoulder blade again. Oliver scrunched his eyebrows together.

“Wait, what…?” he said, voice slightly cracking. “What about Barry…?”

“There was an explosion…? S.T.A.R. Labs…? The particle accelerator…?” Felicity said, explaining the situation the best she could given her distressed emotional state. “They said that...Barry was struck by a bolt of lightning, and...the hospital, it just keeps losing power, and Barry keeps going into cardiac arrest, and—!”

“Where is he?” Oliver said, cutting the blonde off gruffly.

“Central City Hospital—where are you going?” Felicity asked as Oliver picked back up his bow and arrows.

“To see him,” was all the Vigilante offered before he left.

Oliver clocked about eighty-five miles per hour on his motorcycle as he rushed his way towards Central City. He got there in about roughly seven hours, and when he did come to visit Barry, it was quietly through a window. Oliver left the window open just enough so that he could slip back out quickly if need be.

On his way, he had asked Felicity what room Barry was in, and he'd also inquired as to what she knew of the younger man's condition. Seeing Barry like this though, connected to various tubes and wires, Oliver found that no amount of description could have prepared him for it. He was surprised to see Barry appear so fragile.

 _“Shit, kid...what happened to you…?”_ Oliver thought to himself.

He took several steps towards Barry as he absently took off one of his gloves. He then lightly trailed his fingertips over one of Barry's arms. A warmth spread in his right shoulder as he did so.

Then Oliver frowned. Something seemed oddly familiar about all this, but he couldn't imagine why. He didn't have long to dwell on that thought, however, because then he heard voices draw closer down the hall. Oliver reached into his pocket and produced a small black object which he threw at the bottom of the door, where it stuck there like a magnet. It was a device Felicity created that would allow him to hear anything near it within within a twelve-foot radius. Oliver then put on the accompanying earpiece and quickly slipped outside Barry's hospital room, closing the window behind him. He placed a finger to his ear as he listened.

_“They can't save him.”_

Hearing those words made Oliver's stomach drop. Before he could be thrown into despair, however, the voice continued.

_“But I can.”_

The man speaking seemed so self-assured. Oliver couldn't help wondering who they were; what made them so confident. He would be getting his answer soon enough.

 _“I know who you are,”_ said a different voice. _“You're that scientist that Barry's obsessed with, the one who blew a hole in the city.”_

 _“Harrison Wells,”_ the first voice confirmed. _“And interestingly enough, my facility is the very place I would like to take him.”_

_“You're out of your mind.”_

_“I'm not gonna try and convince you with promises,”_ said Dr. Wells. _“But, Detective, give me a chance.”_

So the other voice had to belong to Detective Joe West, Oliver thought; Barry's foster father. He remembered that detail from when Diggle had gone over with him what he'd found on Barry.

_“I think we already know what you're capable of, Doctor. You hurt a lot of people that night.”_

“ _So those doctors in there, they're good enough?”_ asked Dr. Wells. _“The best in the city, best in the country. Look at them. They have no clue what's going on. They're baffled, and the reason for that is what's happening inside Barry is a mystery, and they don't have the tools to solve it.”_

While Oliver could admit that Dr. Wells seemed to know what he was talking about, he didn't think he liked the man any more than the detective did.

_“But you do?”_

_“That's right,”_ said Dr. Wells. _“Millions of people used to look at my lab, and what did they see? They saw the future. Well, let me take that technology. Let me take that know-how into ensuring that your son actually does have a future. Detective. Let me save him.”_

There was a brief silence. Joe was looking into Barry's room, where the brunette was currently stable.

 _“I...I need to think about this,”_ Joe said.

 _“...very well,”_ said Dr. Wells. _“But Detective…? Do not take too long in making your decision. While I can assure you that my offer will always be on the table, I cannot guarantee that your son's life will be...”_

The doctor then wheeled off, leaving Joe alone with his thoughts. Oliver waited until Joe too left, and then he slipped back into the room to retrieve the listening device. He took one last look at Barry before leaving through the window again, and after he came back out, Oliver scanned the area below him for any signs of Detective West. When he thought he spotted him, Oliver quickly made his way down the side of the hospital building and approached the other man in the parking lot.

“ _Detective West_ ,” Oliver growled.

Joe whipped around, eyes wide. “You're…!” he breathed.

“Who I am is not important,” said Oliver. “Detective West. I suggest that you accept the doctor's offer.”

“What…?” Joe asked, frowning. “You heard…?  How...?”

“I did,” Oliver confirmed. “And while I can agree it might not be the most ideal option, I do think that it is the best one for Barry.”

“I don't understand,” Joe said, shaking his head. “How do you know my son…?”

For a brief moment, Oliver hesitated. Then he said softly, “That's something you can ask him. When he wakes up. Make sure he gets that chance, Detective.”

Then Oliver quickly slipped into the shadows and seemingly disappeared. Joe whirled around, trying to find him.

“Hey! _Wait…_!”

But Oliver was already gone. The Vigilante rushed back towards where he had hidden his bike. He was confident that the detective would make the right call. As for Oliver, he needed to head back home; call in a favor.


	12. Smoke Screen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been extremely sick recently. I think it's a stomach bug of some sort. Been on liquid diet for a few days, resting a lot, and no appetite whatsoever. Even just the mere thought of food seems to make my stomach lurch...like now...so really, enough about all _that_ …! 
> 
> As a result of my illness, the release of this chapter got seriously delayed. Thank you all so much for your continual love and support for this story!! I hope you all find this chapter to be enjoyable as well.
> 
> Spoilers for and alterations to _Arrow_ 's SE02E10, “Blast Radius.” (Most of the changes coming particularly at the end of the episode.)

These days, Oliver was hyper-focused. He made a point of chasing down every single lead that had the potential of bringing him closer to the source of the resurgence of the Mirakuru.

Currently chasing a man, Oliver eventually managed to hang the man upside-down at some point, with considerable ease. The Vigilante stared up at the man for a moment, seething silently before dropping the man partway and putting the man's hand in a painful grasp.

“The man in the skull mask,” Oliver growled. “ _Who is he_ …?!”

“I-I don't know…!” the man replied.

Oliver shook his head in disapproval. _Wrong answer_ , he thought to himself in annoyance.

“You're the biggest street dealer in Crescent Circle. You know _everything_ that goes on over there!” Oliver roared angrily. “ _Who_ is he?!”

“I ain't see the guy before!” the man wailed. “A skull mask, are you freaking kidding me?! Come on, man, I'm still on parole!”

Oliver narrowed his eyes. “Not anymore...” he said gruffly before throwing a fatal punch.

He returned to the foundry in a foul mood. The faint sounds of the news program Diggle was watching grew louder as he drew closer to where the other man was.

“ _A spokesman for the Central City mayor's office confirmed the lack of any damage or radioactive fallout from the explosion that rocked S.T.A.R. Labs five weeks ago—”_

The Hood's thoughts immediately went to Barry. He hadn't been able to catch a glimpse of the younger man in nine months; not since Barry's foster father had agreed to place him in Harrison Wells' care. That's why he had sent Felicity.  As much as he wanted to be there, even just as _himself_ —as _Oliver_ —the Hood realized that this particular plan was just a little too risky.

After he had returned from visiting Barry at the hospital, he had reached out to the blonde and asked her for a favor. Knowing she wouldn't raise as many eyebrows as he would, Oliver asked her to check on Barry's condition from time to time, and the blonde had been more than willing to agree.

He frowned though, when he looked around and noticed that Felicity still had yet to return. He had sent her off several days ago, and had been expecting a report back by now. Oliver couldn't help but to notice the slight curl forming in his gut.

“Is Felicity not back yet?” he asked Diggle.

“She said she wanted to spend a few more days with Barry,” Diggle replied somewhat absently, preoccupied with something he was looking at on his screen.

Oliver let out a sigh of long-suffering. “Any improvement on his condition?” he asked, trying his best not to show how anxious he was to know the answer.

Diggle sighed as well. “Still comatose,” he said glumly.

Oliver shook his head in irritation and looked up towards the ceiling. _“Dammit, Barr…!”_ he thought to himself; his mind not at all registering the use of a nickname he had yet to call the younger man in this lifetime.

“How'd it go out there tonight?” Diggle asked.

Oliver didn't mind the distraction. He welcomed them these days. After all, it kept his mind of the incapacitated state of a certain lanky brunette.

“Same as every other pointed conversation I have with these lowlifes in Crescent Circle,” Oliver said, jaw tensing. “ _Nobody_...has seen a man in a skull mask. But he's still out there.”

He said this last bit as he turned around and bitterly put away his bow. The Mirakuru was a serious problem. So was knowing about Barry's lack of improvement in his condition.

Diggle looked at Oliver, considering him for a moment. The man was perceptive, Oliver knew, and he could tell by the man's voice, in what he said next, that the man suspected, at the very least, _something_. Even if he wasn't necessarily sure what exactly that was. Diggle's tone was probing, but it was almost barely noticeable under the man's practiced mask of neutral.

“Oliver, for the past five weeks, you've pushed yourself pretty hard looking for this guy.”

So the Vigilante had no choice but to attempt to hide behind the anger provoked by one of his fears. “He has the _Mirakuru_ , Diggle!” Oliver snapped, though his tone was lighter than what he'd meant to use.

He could tell from the other man's expression, which was lacking in humor, that Diggle was unconvinced. Still, Oliver stuck to his guns.

“I mean, you saw what it took to kill one guy that had been injected,” Oliver said. “W-we practically had to drop _a_ _building_ on him, so imagine ten...or a hundred.”

He shrunk back a little, unintentionally, when Diggle got up from his seat and started walking towards him.

“Imagine a thousand...” he concluded, weaker than intended.

Diggle sighed. He realized the Vigilante was resolute in staying stubborn for the moment, so he decided he'd play the other man's game.

“You said Roy was injected,” Diggle said calmly.

“Yeah,” Oliver confirmed.

“I've just never seen you spooked like this before,” Diggle said, eyes scrutinizing.

It was a double entendre. So too, was Oliver's response.

“That should tell you something...” Oliver said softly.

“ _It does,”_ Diggle agreed, though he didn't voice his opinion in that moment.

Not wanting to risk further interrogation, Oliver broke eye contact, turned and lifted his jacket off the back of a chair before making his way out of the foundry.

Meanwhile, in Central City, Felicity was by Barry's bedside at S.T.A.R. Labs, quietly observing the state of the brunette. Getting in to see him had been easy enough; people had seen the pair of them together out in public before, so her asking to see Barry hadn't appeared completely out of the ordinary.

At some point tuning out the beeping of the monitors, Felicity's mind wandered back to the memory of Oliver asking her to watch over Barry. She didn't have any problems doing so, of course, but she also recalled finding it interesting how Oliver had seemed that day, in asking her.

“ _Call me as soon as anything changes, okay Felicity?”_

Then, as if on cue, her phone pinged with an alert. Felicity frowned as she looked down at the headline that flashed upon her screen, followed by a small blurb of a link leading to the rest of the news story.

> **LATE NIGHT BOMBING IN STARLING CITY**
> 
> _Just a few hours ago, an unexplained explosion of a multilevel building took place in Starling. Police are currently unaware of any potential suspects, though there is speculation that this may be a terrorist attack. It is highly possible that Starling City's Vigilante is already on the case, as one survivor has accredited the saving of his life to the midnight hero. “One minute he was just there, and then all of a sudden—poof!—he was just gone!” claims . . . ._

Felicity's lips pursed and she quickly put her phone away. Just before leaving, she hovered for a moment over Barry and whispered something in the brunette's ear.

“I'll be back to visit again soon, okay? You hang in there, Barry.”

Taking the first train she could that morning, Felicity arrived in Starling City close to midday. She walked into the conference room as Diggle and Oliver were discussing the bomber she'd read about in the news article.

For a moment, when Oliver saw her, he thought he felt his heart catch in his chest. According to Diggle, Felicity hadn't been expected to return for at least another couple of days. The fact that she was here earlier could only mean one of two things, Oliver thought to himself. She was either here to bring good news or bad, and he was most certainly hoping that it would not be the latter.

“I thought you were staying in Central City for a few more days?” Oliver asked, without really asking what was really on his mind.

“I got a news alert about the bombing,” said Felicity. “Caught the first train out in the morning.”

“Good...” Oliver said with a slight nod. “We need you here.”

He exchanged a slight smile with Felicity. Then, realizing she hadn't truly answered the question he needed an answer to, Oliver decided to just drop tact completely and bluntly ask.

“How's Barry?”

“Ah—he's still sleeping,” Felicity replied, quickly. “I prefer _sleeping_ to _coma_ , 'cause coma sounds...you know... _not fun_.”

Diggle squinted his eyes in Felicity's direction, somewhat contemplative. He wondered if perhaps Felicity also _suspected_ , as much as he did, about the nature of Oliver's interest in Barry.

Oliver nodded in response to Felicity's statement, expression somber. Sensing an oncoming awkwardness, Felicity quickly changed the subject.

“I'll uh...reach out to Detective Lance,” she said before offering Oliver one last tiny smile before turning and walking away.

Oliver's eyes then quickly shifted over to assess Diggle's expression, and he felt like he could practically see the wheels turning. When Diggle turned to face him, Oliver could tell the other man wanted to say something. Fortunately for him, however, either something on his face made the other man pause or Diggle just ended up thinking better of it. Regardless, he mercifully left the subject alone.

Unfortunately, Oliver's thoughts had other ideas. Not one to channel his frustrations in a healthy manner, Oliver ended up venting all of them out on Felicity later on that evening, upon returning to the foundry from a failed attempt to catch the one responsible for all the recent bombings. What Diggle witness next appeared to be something akin to two siblings fighting over the same toy—or something to that general effect.

“What. Happened?” Oliver asked curtly as he strode over towards where Felicity was seated in her chair.

“He's using a cellular technology to detonate his bombs,” Felicity explained. “Clearly, his expertise extends to obscuring that signal.”

“ _Felicity_ …?” Oliver said, his tone not at all hiding the fact that he was being condescending. “Your expertise was supposed to trump his.”

Felicity frowned and rose to her feet. “ _Excuse me_...? If you have something to say to me, Oliver, say it.”

Oliver's jaw tensed. “People are _dying_ ,” he said, clearly deflecting. “So I would like you to pull your head out of Central City and get back in the game.”

“Sure!” Felicity retorted back. “Right after you get _yours_ out of your _ass!_ ”

“Excuse me?” Oliver asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

Diggle sighed as he looked between them. “All right,” he said, finding it interesting that neither one of them seemed to be realizing what was actually happening here. “Maybe we should just take a breath here.”

“No, wait, I want to know, what exactly was that crack about Central City meant to imply?” Felicity asked, her tone challenging.

“When the first bomb went off, you weren't here,” Oliver said, curtly. “And when the second bomb went off, you sent me the wrong way.”

“After _you_ didn't catch him in the first place!” Felicity fired back.

“Don't blame _me_ because _you_ didn't have it tonight,” Oliver shot back, with irritation.

Felicity shook her head with disgust. “I need some air,” she said, before marching off.

Diggle decided that he was going to choose that moment to impart upon Oliver a few pearls of wisdom. “At the risk of me getting _my_ head knocked off...” he began. “Playing the blame game's not going to help us catch this son of a bitch.”

“Neither is doing things halfway,” Oliver rasped.

Diggle couldn't help the small chuckle of exasperated amusement that escaped his lips as he confronted the Vigilante. “Is that what you think is going on here, Oliver?” he asked. “You think she was distracted? She wasn't giving it her all?”

“ _Like you?”_ Diggle chose not to say aloud. _“Do you think it's fair to project it all on her? The feelings that you seem to so clearly be thinking about yourself right now?_

“She almost ran me into a _bus_ , Diggle. What do you think?” Oliver snapped.

“ _No, Oliver,”_ Diggle somberly thought to himself. _“You lost focus, just as much as she did, if not more.”_

“I think you didn't have a problem with Felicity's performance until she met Barry Allen,” Diggle said in response to Oliver's snide comment before walking away, leaving the other man to chew on his words for a moment.

They had the desired effect on Oliver, as the Vigilante failed to come back with any sort of fiery response. At least, Diggle had thought that his words had gotten through to the other man until he saw Oliver continue to interact with Felicity in an irritated manner.

The more Diggle thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense. Oliver was definitely acting like an individual struggling with feelings of jealousy; though towards whom, Diggle couldn't yet completely be certain. He wanted to say that it was towards Felicity over Barry, and not quite the other way around, as he imagined most of the rest of the world probably expected of Oliver Queen. After all, Oliver had seemed particularly prickly, with all his comments towards Felicity regarding her mind being left in Central City and her having been with Barry instead of here with them, in Starling. Still though, Diggle didn't think that it would hurt to obtain a little more concrete proof. Something that Oliver would actually be willing to acknowledge.

He was going to get his wish sooner than he thought. Although, perhaps not _exactly_ in the way he was envisioning.

Diggle had been on his way out of the foundry when he heard Oliver reluctantly give his apology. Knowing neither of his friends were paying him much attention, Diggle stopped and strained to listen to their conversation from his place at almost the top of the stairs.

“ _I understand that this Mirakuru thing has you freaked, and I have been in Central City a lot..”_

“Felicity, it's not that,” Oliver disagreed.

Then, for the very first time, Felicity found herself looking at Oliver—like _really_ looking at him—and suddenly her eyes opened as she recognized something in the man's eyes. An _emotion_ that she felt like she'd seen somewhere else before. One that she recognized.

And then it hit her.  Like a battering ram.  _Barry._

“ _The other night, I asked if you liked Oliver…?”_

“ _I told you, I don't.”_

She could almost recall the exact way that Barry had smiled at her; the way he had chuckled at her when she'd said those words to him.

“ _I remember.”_

She even thought that she could remember the way that he had shaken his head slightly, in amusement.

_“But...if you did...I could see why.”_

And now, so could she. It was admittedly surreal, this whole situation with Oliver, Felicity decided.

“ _I mean, **Oliver Queen**...”_

Though really, Felicity realized, she didn't know how she couldn't have seen all the signs before. After all, they had always been there; glaringly obvious.

“ _He is a billionaire by day, and saves the city by night.”_

“ _Wh—sounds like_ _ _you__ _want to date him…!”_

Because he did, Felicity realized, then. He _had_.  And, unless Barry had changed his mind in the several hours since his departure from Starling City up until the minutes before he was struck by that lightning after the particle accelerator explosion, Barry Allen  _still did_. She remembered Barry had been following all of Oliver's accomplishments as the Arrow. Furthermore, upon discovering the billionaire's true identity, rather than being fazed, Barry had been more than happy to play along in his own little role, no questions asked, so to speak.

Then there was the matter of Oliver, Felicity thought to herself, as her mind began rapidly placing all the pieces of her mental jigsaw puzzle into place. All of the Vigilante's harsh words towards her; the frustrations that he'd been venting out on her. Felicity realized that those words didn't appear to have been meant for her after all. Neither were the ones where Oliver seemed to be looking deep into her soul, like how he was now.

 _No_ , Felicity realized. _Those words were all meant for Barry._ Just as they were now.

“ _When you are there, well, it just made me realize how much I need you here.”_

She began to wonder if perhaps Diggle knew of what it was she felt she was seeing in that moment. She wondered if perhaps he had, at some point, come to these same conclusions.

“ _In the beginning, I was just gonna...I was gonna do all of this by myself.”_

She'd have to ask him about it later, Felicity decided within herself.

“ _I rely on you.”_

 _Barry._ Felicity felt like she could almost hear the unspoken name tacked onto the end of the Vigilante's sentence.

“ _You're my **partner**...”_

Words that Oliver would one day echo again at a later date, eventually, to the correct person; though that wouldn't be for some time yet.

“Barry's gonna wake up,” Oliver eventually said at one point, and when he did, Felicity knew he had meant it as a comfort more for himself than actually for her. “And when he does, _you_ will be there...”

“Only because _you_ can't,” Felicity said, automatically, without thinking.

Her words caused Oliver to immediately freeze in place. Diggle chuckled softly under his breath and nodded quietly in approval as he discreetly made the rest of his way up the stairs. _He would need to have a talk with Felicity later_ , he thought to himself.

“What are you talking about, Felicity?” Oliver asked, failing to mask his surprise.

“Oh, I think you know _exactly_ what it is I am talking about,” Felicity said as she regarded Oliver with an expression that was _almost_ akin to fondness.

She wasn't at all shocked by the Vigilante's rather stubborn response. “Well, maybe he's dreaming about _you…_.?”

Felicity half-smiled. “You know,” she said. “There's conflicting cases about whether coma patients can in fact dream normally or they're more like hallucinating.”

That seemed to give the Vigilante pause, but not for same the reason that Felicity believed him to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to figure out when I can appropriately time the companion fic to this piece. Like this one, the planning for the other story idea is completely fleshed out and complete; it's honestly just a matter of commitment and making sure I keep all the timelines consistent to the best of my ability! There's also the matter of updating my other unfinished fic...that update is ridiculously overdue. I've definitely got to do something about that...hopefully soon...!!!!


	13. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for the pilot episode of _The Flash_ and some spoilers and a dialogue change to the first episode of _Arrow_ 's third season. Originally this was going to be longer, but then I realized some things just didn't flow, so I've moved them to the next chapter. Sorry this one took so long! Hopefully I'll have the next bit done sometime tomorrow!

In the nine months Barry was comatose, he was able to relive the better part of his previous existence. The details, of course, he would mostly lose upon waking, but for those nine months, Barry experienced a true sense of _completion_. His final dream was weaker than the rest, as well as the shortest and most confusing of them all. It was one of the few where memories intermingled with Barry's subconscious thoughts, which were trying to understand what he was seeing.

_They were in bed. Barry leaned into Oliver's touch, which felt more than familiar at that point, as the older man cupped a hand around one side of his face, running a thumb gently across his cheek. Barry felt his small smile slowly fade as he noticed the lack of humor on the other man's face. Before Barry could ask what was wrong, Oliver shook his head and his brows furrowed together into a slight frown._

_“What happened to us…?”_ _Oliver whispered, the pain in his tone causing Barry to feel a pang in his chest._

_“Ollie, what—?” Barry began, but didn't get the chance to finish articulating his question as he was interrupted by a series of images._

_A[room](http://www3.hilton.com/resources/media/hi/en_US/img/shared/carousel/main/HH_weddingreception_172x98_FitToBoxSmallDimension_LeftCenter.jpg) filled with people and a phenomenal view. Oliver dressed in a tuxedo, looking nervous and elated at the same time. Barry's feet began to move on their own, towards Oliver, and he heard the sound of people rising from their seats and clapping as he made his way down the aisle._

_There was something wrong about all this though, Barry knew. A little voice in the back of his mind urged him to move faster—told him that he was running out of time—and Barry knew this to be true, though he didn't understand why._

_Barry tried to move faster, tried to reach Oliver, but he didn't make it in time. Just as he was about to reach for Oliver's outstretched hand, the scene before him faded to black._

Then the sound of a techno beat pervaded his hearing. The world around him seemed hazy at first, but soon Barry began to make out the voices.

_“...what are you doing?”_

The first voice belonged to a woman, Barry noted, and she sounded unamused by the person she was speaking to.

_“He likes this song.”_

The other voice belonged clearly to a man. Barry could almost make out the shapes of the people talking over him.

As they talked, a million thoughts raced through Barry's mind as he suddenly felt thrown into a panic. He immediately found himself wondering how long he'd been unconscious for, where he was, and who the people talking were.

The minute he could, Barry gasped for breath, startling the two other individuals in the room with him. After a bit of hasty introductions, Barry quickly learned that he'd been in a coma for nine months since getting struck by lightning at the precinct. He also learned the names of his caretakers—Cisco Ramon and Caitlin Snow. To say that Barry was excited to discover Harrison Wells had been overseeing his treatment personally was a definite understatement, and he was so starstruck that he almost missed the explanation that while conventional medicine wouldn't have been able to save him, S.T.A.R. Labs had the resources, which was why Barry found himself there. There, the conversation took a more somber turn, as Barry was brought up to speed of all the repercussions caused by the particle accelerator's explosion. Careers ruined. Lives lost. Dr. Wells confined to a wheelchair. It was all a lot to take in.

Then Dr. Wells mentioned Iris, and suddenly whatever the doctor and his team had to say to him no longer seemed so important. He left without allowing the scientists to run any of the recommended tests and left with surprisingly little further resistance from Dr. Wells.

Barry went through the usual travel debacles to get to the coffee shop where Iris worked. It was a heartfelt reunion, and one that came with a surprise.

It was like a scene out of a movie. He watched as everything seemed to move in slow motion when a waitress accidentally dropped a tray full of items. Somewhere deep inside, Barry knew that his life would never be the same, as cliché as that sounded.

The rest of his day didn't progress any less strangely. Barry went back to S.T.A.R. Labs to learn more about his newly discovered powers—and the fact that he wasn't the only metahuman—and he eventually fought against one of the Marden brothers, who apparently became a metahuman himself instead of dying in the plane crash that the rest of Central believed had supposedly killed him.

By the end of the day, Barry felt all turned around from his recent experiences. From the half-remembered dreams to what seemed to be his new reality, everything felt so surreal. It might have felt exhilarating too, if it hadn't been for Dr. Wells' words of discouragement, which still echoed in his ear.

“ _You're not a hero.”_

That had left Barry at a momentary loss. Joe wanted him out of trouble, and he'd promised the man that Iris would be left in the dark. Likewise, the rest of the world wasn't to be privy to his secret, and Dr. Wells and his team viewed him as nothing more than a lab rat. Technically, it seemed, Barry had nowhere really to turn; no one to bounce ideas off of, or seek encouragement from.

Then, while lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling contemplatively, Barry felt a warmth ripple through his shoulder, bringing one name to mind. _Oliver_.

Rubbing a hand over where his mark was located, Barry slowly got up into a sitting position and reached for his phone off his nightstand. He took in a short breath as he sifted through his contacts for the right name.

The minute he called Oliver was just after the older man had finished talking to Felicity in the hallway of a hospital where Diggle's daughter had just been born. It hadn't _really_ been a fight, not quite. It was more like the blonde had given him a lot to chew on.

_“What is it, Oliver?” Felicity had asked as they made their way down the hall. He felt her fingertips brush against his elbow. “I can tell that something is on your mind. Talk to me. Is it being here, maybe? In the hospital? Does it remind you of Barry…?”_

_Oliver had stopped then, sighed, and then turned to look at his friend with a rueful smile. “Remember when I said that I thought I could be me and the Arrow?”_

_“I...do recall you saying something along those lines, yes,” Felicity had somewhat hesitantly confirmed with a nod._

_“Well, tonight has made me realize that I can't,” Oliver had said, somewhat resigned. “Not now...maybe not ever.”_

_“Oliver...”_

_“You know, I never got to finish telling you at the restaurant, but when I was in Hong Kong...there was something someone told me once,” Oliver had continued._

_“And that was…?” Felicity had questioned with a slight tilt of her head._

_“A man cannot live by two names.”_

_Felicity's brows had knitted together. “Meaning?”_

_“That I don't have a choice, Felicity,” Oliver had said tightly. “That if I choose to be the Arrow, then there is no room for Oliver Queen.”_

_It took a second for what he'd said to sink in, but when it did, Felicity frowned at him openly and shook her head. “Bullshit, Oliver,” she had said to him, ignoring Oliver's look of surprise. “You always have a choice.”_

_“Felicity...”_

_“Don't. Hide. Behind. Your. Fears,” Felicity had said pointedly, enunciating each word as she simultaneously jabbed her index finger at his chest to emphasize her point._

_“I'm not,” Oliver had responded stubbornly, jaw set. “I'm trying to protect people from danger.”_

_Before he could go on, Felicity had held up a hand to stop him. “Oliver,” she had said, moving closer to him and placing her hands on his arms. “The people that love you…? We accept you. For all of it.”_

_Oliver's lips had parted to say something, but his words failed him. Felicity had half-smiled and taken a step back._

_“Think on that for a while, won't you?” she had said before walking away from him. Then Oliver's phone had rung._

Oliver looked down at the caller ID and was surprised to see Barry's name. “Hello?” he asked, brows slightly furrowing together, as if he wasn't sure he could believe it.

“ _It's Barry. Barry Allen.”_

 _Like he could forget who Barry was_ , Oliver thought to himself. A well of emotions surged through Oliver's chest from hearing the voice. It was undeniable, the relief he felt, hearing Barry. Knowing that the younger man was _alive_.

“ _I woke up,”_ Barry continued. _“I could use some advice.”_

Oliver didn't miss a beat. “I'll be right there,” he said before hanging up the phone.

And if he was rushing to get to Barry, well, no one was around to call him out on it.


	14. Something Like a Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my Tethered Together fic, user [LiselleVelvet](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LiselleVelvet/pseuds/LiselleVelvet) asked some very good questions in the comments section regarding the head-canon timline I've developed here that I realize other readers might also be asking, so I'm going to post the same explanations I gave her in the endnotes for this chapter and in the next chapter of Tethered. There's at least four layers to the timeline I'm envisioning, and that's not even counting the number of story arcs I've planned for this fic! Notes are placed at the end as opposed to the beginning because the explanation is rather long. There's a potential reading it might also spoil some of the ideas I have for this fic ahead of time, but I'm hoping it doesn't do that too badly. The explanations are the same in both fics, so there's only need to read it once if you're curious!
> 
> Spoilers for _The Flash_ 's pilot episode and SE01E03, "Things You Can't Outrun" littered all throughout, with some changes made here and there. Newspaper text lifted straight from the article in the TV series! We're progressively making our way to the second arc of this fic, and I have about three or four planned, so this is exciting!! Hope you all enjoy this chapter as well! :)

Oliver was already waiting on the rooftop for Barry by the time the speedster got there. The older man turned the minute he felt a rush of wind behind him. His lips parted slightly upon seeing Barry before him, chest heaving, somewhat breathless.

 _Beautiful_ , Oliver thought to himself as he took a small step forward, and then he stopped and frowned. There was something oddly familiar about this, he realized, though he couldn't really place a finger on why he felt that way. It wasn't the scenery so much as it was the circumstances. Like he'd waited for Barry to come back to him from something similar before. Oliver shook his head. _That was crazy_ , he mused.

He marveled at the fact that for someone who had supposedly been thrown into a coma for about nine months, Barry didn't look a damn bit worse for wear. In fact, if anything, the kid looked even better than he remembered him to be; more defined somehow.

“Have you been...working out?” Oliver asked, mentally cursing himself for starting things off with such an awkward question. _Of course_ the kid hadn't been.

“Oh, uh... _yeah_. I've got abs now,” the younger man replied, lips twitching a bit at the corners. “ _Totally weird_ , right? I mean, I haven't been working out...like, not really in the traditional sense, at least. I mean, when I first woke up, I had them...but I mean, I think that has to do with the fact that I seem to be _something else_ , now, and—”

“Whoa, whoa, wait, Barry,” Oliver said, holding up a hand. “Slow down.”

“Ack…! I was rambling, wasn't I? Yeah, I was...I was rambling. Sorry...” Barry mumbled in apology.

Oliver breathed out a short laugh and then shook his head. “No, it's all right, just...explain things to me a little more...chronologically, I guess? So that I can understand…? Think you can do that for me?”

“Uh, yeah,” Barry said, nodding. “I can. Sure.”

“Good, but first...” Oliver said, brows knitting together in open concern. “You're all right though…? Really?”

Then something more like a frown crossed his features, when Oliver was hit with another one of those strange hallucinations. It took him by surprise, because it had been a while since he could remember having experienced one.

_“Barry!”_

_They were in a hospital-like room, but they weren't in an actual hospital. Oliver didn't know where they were exactly, but he was at least sure of that much. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he ran up to the younger man, who was sitting upright in his bed._

_“I made sure to come over here, as fast as I could,” Oliver said. “As soon as I heard.”_

_Barry was smiling up at him warmly. “Yeah, Ollie...I know. Mmph…!”_

_“Shit, kid...you scared me,” Oliver said, having enveloped Barry in a sweeping hug. “I thought I was going to lose you...”_

_Barry laughed softly. “No way that was going to happen.”_

_Oliver pulled back. “You're okay though…? You're not hurt anywhere?” he asked as he quickly inspected Barry all over._

_“O-Ollie…! Stop…! That tickles!” Barry said with a laugh._

_“Seriously...you're fine?” Oliver asked, shaking his head. “I mean, you look **great** , honestly, but still, I just want to hear you say it.” _

“Y-yeah…!” Barry said, his stuttering bringing Oliver out of his inner thoughts. “I, uh...never been better, actually. That lightning bolt that hit me? Well...it's given me the ability to do some _things_...like, um...like the ability to heal a lot faster.”

Oliver frowned a little as he shook his head of the thoughts he'd just had; he'd deal with those thoughts later. “Come again…?”

“Well, like...when I got struck by the lightning, apparently it had given me some sort of scar, right across my chest,” Barry explained, motioning to the area where his scar had supposedly been. “But I mean, when I woke up? It was gone. If someone hadn't told me about it, I wouldn't have known...you know what? How about I just start explaining all of this to you from the top?”

“Yeah,” Oliver agreed with a nod. “I guess that would be best.”

“Okay. Here goes…!” Barry said, taking in a deep breath right before he got started, recounting for Oliver all of the relevant events that had brought him up to this point.

When Barry concluded, he looked at Oliver expectantly, awaiting the older man's response. The Vigilante took in a short breath before turning to face Barry.

“So why come to me?” he asked, expression somewhat conflicted. “Something tells me you didn't just run six-hundred miles to say 'hi' to a friend.”

He didn't like the way the word rolled off his tongue, it felt almost like a lie, but there was no other way to really describe what they were. _Always dancing around something_ , Oliver's mind seemed to supply, causing him to internally frown for he had no idea where the thought had come from.

“All my life, I've just wanted to do more... _be_ more. And now I am,” said Barry. “And the first chance I get to help someone, I screw up.”

There was a definite urge to close the gap between them and hold Barry, to comfort him, but Oliver pushed that feeling down. After all, he wasn't sure how the younger man would react if he did.

 _“But you do know,”_ a little voice inside him whispered. _“He wouldn't mind.”_

Seemingly irrational advice. Oliver ignored the voice.

“What if Wells is right?” Barry continued. “What if I'm just some guy who was struck by lightning?”

Oliver recognized the hints of pain in the younger man's tone, which most certainly didn't help his wanting to pull Barry in for a warm embrace. That feeling of déjà vu crept in again; a fuzzy image wanting to clear in focus. His features softened as he felt as if a part of him were being taken over by something; _someone_ he once knew, once identified with.

“I don't think that bolt of lightning struck you, Barry,” Oliver said softly. “I think it chose you.”

“I'm just not sure I'm like you, Oliver,” Barry responded, shaking his head. “I don't know if I can be some... _vigilante_.”

“You can be better,” Oliver said. “Because you can inspire people in a way that I never could. Watching over your city like a guardian angel. Making a difference. Saving people...”

As he spoke, he experienced a burst of memory, though this one had a distant feel to it. All the visuals were hazy, but something told him that wasn't important. It was the words. The words were the key. The words were relevant, somehow, to this current conversation.

_Laughter. “All right, fine. I guess The Streak is a terrible name. Well? How about Speedy…?”_

_More laughter; his own. “That won't work.”_

_“What? Why not?”_

_Oliver chuckled. “That's what I call my sister.”_

_“Huh,” said the voice; Barry, Oliver realized, and he was smiling. “That's interesting. Almost feels like a sign, doesn't it? Like we were always meant to be or something.”_

_“Yeah,” Oliver said, smiling back. “I guess so.”_

_“Lightning Bolt?”_

_More laughter. “Seriously?! Either way, that's too long.”_

_“Yeah, true...”_

_“How about—”_

“...in a _flash_ ,” Oliver said, his consciousness fighting its way back to the present.

A shiver ran down Barry's spine, and his eyes widened slightly. An idea sparked—or rather, it had resurfaced from a time long gone. An echo.

“Take your own advice,” Oliver said with a light smirk, breaking Barry briefly out of his thoughts. “Wear a mask.”

Barry chuckled softly, giving the older man a small smile back. He then watched Oliver jump off the roof and swing to the next building.

“Cool,” he breathed, allowing himself to rake his eyes over Oliver's form climbing up the side of the next building for just a moment before turning around and literally racing his way back to Central City.

When Oliver glanced to his right, sensing Barry's departure, he felt his lips curl into a small smile as he saw the sparking red blur that rushed away at a lightning speed.

“ _Cool_ ,” he said to himself before making the rest of his way up the side of the building he was climbing.

Barry returned to Central with a renewed spirit, and the next day, he enlisted the help of Cisco to carry out what he believed to be the mission Oliver had tasked him with—to protect his city. They had both agreed not to tell Caitlin or Dr. Wells, for that matter, deciding that would be best. Of course, they were both incredibly terrible at hiding things, so it was only a matter of time before they were found out. To their credit, however, they had managed to fly under the radar for about a week. Barry was surprised when Dr. Wells gave in to allowing the speedster to pursue his vigilantism this second time around. What he didn't know, was that the Reverse Flash had started on a new plan.

After thinking on it a while, Eobard realized that there was value in letting Barry play the hero. The Flash was not yet developed; not yet fast enough, and unlike in the future, Barry had obtained his powers much younger. Too much younger, as it had turned out, for Barry to want to hone his powers in a less grandiose fashion. Whereas an older Barry might have been convinced to try and harness his powers through training, the younger, doe-eyed version had it in his mind and heart to save the universe. And if there was one thing Eobard knew well about Barry, it was the younger man's stubbornness. _Fine_ , he had thought to himself when he finally decided to concede after much internal debate. _There was still a way he could work with this._ It was annoying, knowing that he would have to constantly make sure Barry didn't get himself killed before Eobard had the chance to get back home, to _his_ time, but he was willing to make the sacrifice. After all, he needed Barry to _get fast_ , not to mention now Eobard would have a front-row seat, and even have a hand in the speedster's development as The Flash.

As exhilarating as it was to know that he held so much power, so much irony in his hands, Eobard's plan didn't come without its stresses. After every mission, every crime of _change_ that Eobard knew he'd committed against his own time period caused the time traveler to go back to his secret chamber in S.T.A.R. Labs and summon Gideon, his proverbial mirror on the wall. Each time he would charge the A.I. to show him the future; reassure him that the world he'd unintentionally left behind was still very much in tact. Each time, he would breathe a sigh of relief upon seeing the familiar headline and story.

> **FLASH MISSING IN CRISIS  
>  BY IRIS WEST-ALLEN  
>  Thursday, April 25, 2024**
> 
> _After an extreme street battle with the Reverse-Flash, our city's very own Scarlet Speedster disappeared in an explosion of light. The cause of the fight is currently unknown. According to witnesses, The Flash, with help from Starling City's Green Arrow, The Atom, and Hawkgirl, began fighting the Reverse-Flash around midnight last night. The . . . ._

It really was just a false sense of security, but Eobard was none the wiser. He was so focused on the title, so focused on the byline, that he would eventually miss the most crucial thing of all. A loose end.

Perhaps he had been stuck in this time for too long. He would eventually find himself so caught up in the intellectual challenges, all wrapped up in his ego; his twisted idol worship, that he would miss all the signs.

They needed a place to put the metahumans, Barry and Cisco had said. Iron Heights wouldn't hold them. Eobard hadn't been able to resist; he'd rose to the challenge.

“Cisco is right,” he had said, unable to help himself when the scientist had indirectly suggested that they place criminal metahumans in the particle accelerator. “It could be modified to act as a makeshift prison.”

Caitlin had fallen quiet then, remembering. She had lost her fiancé in the explosion. She had been relieved when Barry had correctly read the situation and helped her avoid helping Eobard with adjustments to the particle accelerator. So when Barry had later asked her a very personal question, as much as she hadn't wanted to answer it, Caitlin felt that she might have at least owed him that much, and so she did.

“Can I ask you something that you don't have to answer?”

“My least favorite kind of question,” Caitlin had said in response to Barry's inquiry. “Shoot.”

She was surprised when Barry asked, and she had almost anticipated the question. In some ways, Barry was rather easy to read. Caitlin had to admit, that part of him was rather endearing.

“Ronnie. What was he like? You just never talk about him that much.”

“We met when we were working on the particle accelerator,” Caitlin answered, going on to describe what she remembered about Ronnie; their similarities and differences, before admitting. “He wasn't supposed to be there that night. He was just there for me. If he hadn't...”

She didn't need to finish her sentence. Barry understood, though only in part. He didn't understand what it did to her when he decided to answer what he believed to be the call of duty, to go after the metahuman that could become poisonous gas. He didn't know what it did to her to hear the same words she played in her head, constantly, day after day.

_“Caitlin, I have to go.”_

The only difference being a slight variation on her name—Ronnie had called her _Cait_ —she had been unable to shake the feeling of helplessness; the same emotion she had felt the day she had lost Ronnie. She was able to basically tell Barry as much later, when he apologized to her for having left her so abruptly.

“It's okay. I get it. You had to go,” she said before admitting. “It's just...that's the last thing that Ronnie said to me that night.”

And in talking about it, she was reminding herself; reliving the nightmare and anguish she'd experienced all over again. Barry listened, and as he did so, something stirred within him.

“He saved so many lives that day,” Caitlin continued. “And no one will ever know what he did.”

“I do,” Barry said then, meaning to be reassuring. “He was a hero.”

His heart broke for her when she responded back tearfully. “I didn't want him to be a hero. I wanted him to be my _husband_.”

When she said that, there was a familiar pull in Barry's heart. He felt that haze in his mind again, the one that sometimes had those strange visions accompanied with it, along with feelings of having had something important unjustly wrenched away from him. Barry couldn't explain it, but he knew that he related to Caitlin more than he could understand _how_. A familiar voice tugged in the back of his mind; the faint remnants of a forgotten dream. Pain. Distress. A whisper. The million dollar question.

_“What happened to us…?”_

One that Barry couldn't answer, at least not at that moment. The conversation had dwindled between the pair of scientists after that.Turning the contents of their conversation around in his mind, Barry silently vowed that if he were to somehow find a way to help his friend through her hurt, he would.

At the end of the day, bothered by a lot of the recent occurrences that he had experienced, Barry had detoured to Iron Heights to visit his father instead of going back home. Sometimes, it was the only way to clear his head.

They exchanged small smiles before taking their respective phones off the receivers, so that they could communicate. Barry leaned in and took a short breath before leading with Joe's condition. His father simply looked back at him and waited; they both knew that wasn't the real reason why he was there.

“You know, lately I've been thinking about Mom. A lot,” Barry said with a soft sigh. “I miss her...”

“Did I ever tell you about the time you learned to walk?” his father asked suddenly.

Barry chuckled. “A couple times.”

“Everyone was walking before you,” Henry Allen said. “All the little babies running around the neighborhood. Not you.”

Barry breathed in a tad unsteadily as he felt himself transported back for a moment, to what his father was describing. Though the memory did seem a bit far away and hazy, he could recall a little bit from that time. The world had seemed so sunny and bright; in those days he had looked upon everything with awe and wonder.

“But your mom was never worried,” Henry continued. “She just said, _'he'll walk when he has someplace to go,'_ and sure enough, the first time you took a few steps, you moved so quick, you didn't just walk, you started—”

“To _run_ ,” Barry finished for his father, eyes becoming moist. He remembered.

_His mother's smile and her kind eyes; her wavy red hair. The way her expression just lit up as he charged forward; her arms spread open wide as she laughed with delight._

_“Barry…!”_

“And you ran to your mom, Barry. Right into her arms,” Henry said with a small smile. “You had someplace to go.”

_He had been laughing too, Barry remembered. He had squealed with joy when he ran into his mother. She had scooped him up and spun him around once before peppering his cheeks and forehead with loving kisses._

_“That's my precious baby boy!” she had whispered softly to him as she tapped Barry gently on the nose with a finger. “That's my handsome Barry!”_

And it was strange, how he had heard this story so many times, and yet for the first time it had taken on a new significance. There came that feeling again, at the edge of his mind. The feeling that he was so close to remembering something that was still just out of his reach. He had leaned into the feeling, grasping, searching.

Then his father had asked him a question about his day, and Barry's train of thought was broken. The moment was lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the explanation of the timelines. Most of my response to LiselleVelvet remains the same, but I did clean up some bits that might have read confusing before. So here are the layers. There's:
> 
> 1\. The Tethered Together timeline - the "original" original timeline (my made-up version); followed by,  
> 2\. The actual original timeline where Barry gets his powers in 2020 (implied by the series canon); and then,  
> 3\. The series canon timeline where Barry gets his powers earlier, in 2013; concluding with finally,  
> 4\. The That Which Binds Them timeline (the time travel implied in the prologue).
> 
> I did this mostly to explain the shifts in the relationship between Barry and Oliver through each iteration. So in Tethered, nothing has been tampered with yet. Barry and Oliver's relationship is the way "fate" meant it to be in the "original design," we'll call it. Then in the original timeline implied in the series canon, Barry marries Iris; he didn't run into the Arrow in time in that one. I implied this in chapter 4 of That Which Binds, I believe. Which is why in the canon timeline, which is what the current chapters in That Which Binds are covering, Eobard hasn't...well, you'll see. I don't want to reveal that plot point now, haha. As much as I'd like to, that's me getting ahead of myself. And then yes, we have the fourth timeline which is alluded to in the prologue.
> 
> I know, a lot to keep track of! I've kind of implied in the tags and summary (though I made sure to be super vague so people don't guess it so soon!) as to what's caused Barry to want to change time again in the prologue, so I'm excited to see what people think once we finally get there!
> 
> The key thing in the timeline I've set for this fic, is to kind of explain why Oliver is more jaded and finds it more difficult to build trusting relationships in the later timelines as opposed to my head-canon "original." I also imagine in the original 2020 timeline, he doesn't meet Oliver until after he's met his powers, but I made them meet sooner in Tethered Together only because of the soulmate element. Hence the tags for alternate canon (a.k.a. my head-canon), canon divergence, alternate reality, etc.
> 
> Also, I think that would be a typo on the series Wiki's timeline, because in the series, Eobard causes that car crash, and then he tells the real Harrison that he needs the particle accelerator to be activated earlier. In the actual comic books, the Reverse Flash is from an even later time than the Flash. He then goes back in time to kill Iris (who is Barry's wife) one of the times. There's some other time travel debacles that Eobard does as Professor Zoom in the original comics...and you know what? LOL. I think it may be easier to just copy-paste the link...it may sort of ruin where I'm planning to go with this, but it'll probably give you a better idea at the same time. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reverse-Flash) Not sure why they have two sections for Professor Zoom, but just read that subheading and not the Zoom subheading; hopefully that makes more sense when you open the Wiki! ^^;;


	15. The Start of Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh!! I'm SO SORRY it's taken me forever to get this out!! It wasn't writer's block so much as my schedule got incredibly busy at work all of a sudden, and I just kept getting interrupted while trying to write this. Not to mention, by the time I'd get home, I'd be too bushed to keep writing! 
> 
> More rewritten episode elements! Some spoilers for and changes to dialogue and certain events from SE01E04 of _The Flash_ , "Going Rogue." Also, I'm introducing new headcanon elements surrounding the concept of residual memories I've established in this fic.
> 
> Lastly, a side note. You know what I am most grateful for? All the readers who seem to be reading so closely. Not only does it keep me on my toes, make me want to continue bringing you all the best work possible, it's also a relief, because I'm doing my best to be intentional with the details I put into each chapter; clues for what's in store in later chapters, though they might be difficult to pick up on now, since I also intentionally haven't made it obvious where to look, so to speak. 
> 
> As always, I look forward to hearing from all you readers, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!!

At least Barry could never complain about having the same kind of day twice. What started out as his response to what should have been a routine robbery quickly went wrong, when one of the officers had gotten shot. Barry had taken the injured party to the hospital in time, but it was the sort of close call that he was not keen to repeat.

Fortunately, the apparent leader of the crew had at some point lost his mask, and Barry had gotten the opportunity to take a good look at his face. He later found out the man's identity, thanks to a book of mugshots Joe had handy at the station. And the day only got worse from there.

Leonard Snart—or Captain Cold, as Cisco later dubbed him—turned out to be a right thorn in his side, and he had somehow gotten hold of a cold gun, a countermeasure against Barry's superpowers that the scientist had secretly created, having supposedly made it before becoming friends with the speedster. And that was just one of the headaches—the other being Iris having started up a blog where she was writing about Barry without realizing that she was actually blogging about _him_. So when Felicity had come around in the midst of all the chaos, Barry had to admit that she was a welcome distraction. She had come under the guise of wanting to check on Barry's condition for herself, but really, she was there on Oliver's behalf.

_Upon seeing that Oliver's location was being shown as close to the foundry on her screen, Felicity had immediately muted her ability to hear anything coming from the Vigilante's mic, and she managed to quickly change what she seemed to be looking at on her screen just in the nick of time. Pretending she hadn't at all listened to Oliver's conversation with Barry on the rooftop, Felicity turned and smiled, greeting her friend as she normally would._

“ _Did a lot of thinking?” she had asked innocently._

_Oliver had raised his eyebrows in surprise, somewhat caught off-guard by her question. “Hm…? Oh. Yeah…”_

“ _Something on your mind?”_

_Oliver had hesitated, but only briefly. “...Barry's awake.”_

_Felicity had feigned surprise. “Really?”_

“ _He called,” Oliver had said, vaguely. “Then we talked.”_

“ _Honestly I'm surprised he was even able to pick up the phone,” Felicity had said, her curiosity genuine. “I wonder how he could do that, considering he's just woken up from being in a coma for nine months.”_

“ _I don't know,” Oliver had said with a shrug. “It's...complicated.”_

“ _But it seems like he's doing fine?”_

_Her question had seemed to give Oliver pause for a moment. Then he had looked up at her, and Felicity remembered feeling a tinge of surprise upon seeing the pleading in his eyes. Whatever the favor was that he was about to ask, Felicity had known that she wouldn't deny his request._

“ _Would you...would you mind checking on him for me?”_

It was a good thing she had too, Felicity decided in hindsight. the Flash's new nemesis, Captain Cold, was turning out to be quite a handful, and honestly, her timing couldn't have been better. The revelation that Cisco had created a weapon that could detrimentally harm the speedster spread seeds of discord that quickly sprouted, and when Barry started isolating himself from the rest of the team she immediately recognized it for what it was. After all, it was honestly no different from Oliver's brooding. When she found him, running on the S.T.A.R. Labs custom-made treadmill, she wasted no time in giving the speedster a little pep talk.

If there was one thing that set Barry apart from Oliver, it was his inclination to bounce back from things in a more positive manner. Still, he was metaphorically in the process of licking his wounds when Felicity imparted on him some advice, just before leaving him to his thoughts.

“ _I've seen firsthand what this life can do to people,”_ she had said to him. _“_ _It's a lonely path.”_

There was a slight twist in his gut; the subtle implications towards Oliver making him feel the need to do something. What though, he didn't know yet. Not then.

“ _Don't make it any lonelier than it has to be.”_

Her words would resonate in his mind for days after that. And even when they eventually got pushed towards the back of his mind, replaced with more recent thoughts, he never truly forgot them.

Still, his emotions were dictating his actions for the moment, and Barry had stubbornly charged ahead after Leonard without necessarily thinking things through. When he had zipped out of the room to once again face Captain Cold, Felicity couldn't help silently noting how much more alike Barry and Oliver were in certain ways than she had previously realized.

At the same time, there were clear ways in which the two vigilantes differed. Which is why when Cisco and Caitlin were ready to cater to Barry's wishes, Felicity convinced them otherwise. Playing chess, in a manner of speaking, was most certainly more Oliver's strong suit. This was easily illustrated in the way the speedster had gone after Captain Cold, not at all anticipating that he was playing right into the other man's hand.

“ _There's nowhere to run_ ,” Barry said, and when Leonard looked at him, up close and in a well-lit enough environment, he allowed himself to momentarily marvel at just how young the speedster was.

“I didn't see you before,” Leonard admitted, his lips curling naturally into a smirk. “Your mom know you're out past your bedtime?”

The comment made Barry bristle, but he let the jab go. “If you wanted to get away, you should've taken something faster than a train.”

“That's if I _wanted_ to get away,” Leonard replied, amused. “I've seen your weakness at the armored car, then at the theater. See, while _you're_ busy saving everybody, _I'll_ be saving myself.”

He then fired up his gun and shot it at the floor of the train car he was in, freezing the wheels. He then forced open the door and had been about to eject himself, but then he briefly turned back to Barry, unable to resist.

“ _Good luck with that!_ ” he said with a wild grin before he jumped off the train.

After landing as planned, he quickly whirled around to look at the results of his handiwork. He readied his cold gun as he watched the Flash blur in and out of the train, saving everyone he could. Though he had to admit, the speedster was an incredibly easy target to miss, especially when following him with the naked eye, but Leonard was an incredibly patient man. The minute he saw his window of opportunity, he shot Barry in the back with his cold gun. _It was satisfying_ , Leonard thought to himself. _The sound of his scream._

“Pretty fast, kid, but not fast enough,” Leonard drawled as he approached the speedster. “ _Thank you_.”

“For what?” Barry asked through grit teeth.

Leonard felt his lips quirk at the corners. _Like the kid didn't know_ , he thought.

“You forced me to up my game. Not only with this gun, but with how I think about the job,” he said, finger slowly pulling back on the trigger. “It's been educational.”

“ _Drop it!_ ”

Leonard slowly turned away from the Flash, figuring the speedster wasn't going to be an immediate threat anytime soon. He stared first at the one who'd addressed him, Cisco, and then went on to memorize the faces of the other two women that were with him, then he returned his attention to Barry. A quick and accurate assessor of character, Leonard knew that none of them would be a threat.

 _“Stupid,”_ Leonard mused. _“Kid's hands are shaking. Clearly he hasn't killed before.”_

He told Cisco as much, and when the other man fired back with the code name he'd thought of for Leonard in his response, the cold gun wielder couldn't help throwing his head back to laugh. _Captain Cold_ , Leonard thought to himself. _He liked the sound of that._

None of Barry's team had decided to conceal their identities either, which Leonard had noted with glee. _They made it too easy._ He had admittedly been wondering what the Flash's true identity was, and now it seemed that finding that information out had just become that much easier. In fact, Barry's team had given him more than just one opportunity; they had given him _two_. Barry's weakness was his empathy, after all. Leonard knew he was going to enjoy messing with him. It was perfect timing, actually, for Leonard had been feeling as if his life was starting to become a little too mundane.

At the same time, it was strange. There was something oddly familiar about this, and it bothered Leonard. He enjoyed puzzles, but they needed answers, and something told him that the speedster was the key to finding out everything he wanted to know. _All the more reason to keep him alive_ , Leonard mused. He drew back his gun. He was never one to doubt his own instinct.

“You win, kid,” Leonard drawled. “I'll see you around.”

“Hey, leave the diamond,” Cisco said, voice quavering.

Leonard snorted softly as he walked away from them. “Don't push your luck.”

The future leader of The Rogues turned over the moment in his mind for several hours after that. What he didn't know was that his feelings were attributed to the fact that he had indeed experienced that moment before; not exactly to the letter, but something similar. Those not soulbonded could experience residual memories, but it was a lot less common and took a lot more effort than chance meetings to bring to the forefront of one's mind. So in most cases, this is what people would normally describe as experiencing a case of déjà vu. Leonard was sharp though; he knew that wasn't exactly it, and in that moment he inwardly decided that he was going to get to the bottom of whatever it was, one way or another. After making that determination, he set out to take care of the next item on his to-do list. His former, useless and short-lived cohorts had been right; the game was changing. It was now up to Leonard to adapt.

Meanwhile, Felicity had said her goodbyes and was now on a train, heading back to Oliver with her report. Aside from herself, the train car she was in was empty, and so she hadn't expected the gust of wind that broke her out of her thoughts, nor had she been prepared for the sight of Barry, smiling at her from the seat across from her.

“I didn't mean to scare you,” Barry said with a laugh, after Felicity had yelped in surprise.

The blonde let out a small laugh of her own. “Don't tell me you're here to save me,” she said in response.

“Taking the train is still one of the safest ways to travel,” said Barry.

“I thought that was airplanes,” Felicity said with a smile.

Barry smiled back. “Mm...”

A brief silence settled between them, and then Felicity realized that a perfect opportunity had presented itself. Her head tilted slightly to the side.

“Remember that time when we were in the lab, talking about Oliver?” she asked.

One of Barry's eyebrows creased a bit, uncertainly. “...yeah?”

“You had said you could see why I like Oliver— _if_ I did,” Felicity said, squeezing her eyes together and cringing a little as she quickly corrected herself.

When she opened her eyes again, she couldn't help but to notice the way Barry's features relaxed, clearly believing himself to be in the clear. “Yeah,” he said with a half-smile, chuckling softly. “I remember.”

Felicity gave him a warm smile, even as she felt her own heart clenching, just a little. _It was the right thing to do_ , she told herself. That's what she was determined to focus on.

“He's why I'm here,” Felicity said quietly.

Barry blinked, and his cheeks began to tinge a light pink. “H-huh…?!”

“He wanted me to check on you,” said Felicity. “I'm sure he would have done so himself, if his identity wasn't—”

“W-wait,” Barry said, holding up a hand. “W-why would Oliver want to—?”

“He doesn't know what I do, right?” Felicity asked. “He might have seen you out of a coma, looking okay, but he hasn't really had the opportunity to see how you are for an extended period of time, right? You were in a coma for _nine months_ , Barry. Metahuman or not, most people don't just one day wake up and act like nothing ever happened.”

Barry shook his head. “But he…?”

“When you gave Oliver the Warfarin, he experienced hallucinations after, remember?” said Felicity.

“But we determined that his hallucinations _weren't_ caused by the Warfarin,” Barry said with a slight frown.

“That's beside the point!” said Felicity. “What I'm _trying_ to get at, is...we all thought Oliver was perfectly fine at first, right? Considering that he'd pretty much been dead. Even Oliver had thought so. _So_...if you think about it, Barry, it's not entirely unreasonable...you know? His wanting to make sure that you weren't experiencing any unexpected side effects?”

She watched Barry open his mouth and close it as his face went through a myriad of emotions. He finally settled for shaking his head.

“...why are you telling me this, Felicity?” he asked after a moment.

The blonde replied with a small smile. “I do wonder that myself,” she said softly.

She let Barry consider that for a moment. After a brief pause, Barry slowly leaned forward. Felicity sensed the meaning behind the cue. The conversation was over.

“If you ever need anything,” he said with a light conspiratorial tone. “I will race over in a heartbeat.”

Felicity felt her lips quirk slightly at the corners, and she leaned forward herself. “Same,” she replied. “Well, as fast as I can run, which might take me a while, but I will still come.”

Barry chuckled softly. “Bye, Felicity.”

The blonde nodded. “Bye, Barry.”

This time, she wasn't at all shocked when Barry got up and sped out of the train backwards with a gust of wind. As he rushed his way back to Central City, Barry let out a whoop of adrenaline, though he wasn't yet ready to credit the real reason for the extra spring in his step.

When Felicity finally made it back to the foundry, she wasn't necessarily taken off-guard by Oliver springing upon her his question; she just hadn't expected to have to deal with him so soon. The minute she had come down the stairs, he had asked about Barry.

“How's he doing?”

“Fine,” Felicity said, all planned speeches flying out the window. “He seems normal.”

Oliver frowned and Felicity inwardly groaned. This was why she had spent some time thinking about the best way to report her observations to Oliver; she just forgot to imagine a scenario where the man would eliminate the need for her coming up with some sort of segue.

“You're going to have to give me a bit more than that, Felicity,” said Oliver. “How do you know he's normal?”

“He's got a team monitoring him at S.T.A.R. Labs,” said Felicity.

“Are they trustworthy?” asked Oliver.

“They certainly know their stuff,” Felicity offered vaguely. “I've seen the equipment they use. The suit he wears—”

“He's wearing a suit?”

“Complete with a mask,” Felicity said as she noted the slightest upward twitch of Oliver's lips. “Not sure what kind of technology they're using, but they're able to track his vitals while he's wearing it. We should probably look into something like that for you.”

“He told me he was doing some vigilante work,” said Oliver.

“He is,” Felicity confirmed.

“...he run into any problems?” Oliver asked.

Felicity hadn't meant to pause. Oliver narrowed his eyes.

“What happened, Felicity?” Oliver asked. “Did he get hurt?”

“He... _might have_ a bit of an arch nemesis now…? Maybe…? Perhaps…?” Felicity said with a slight cringe.

“An arch nemesis…?” Oliver said with a somewhat incredulous tone and a slight frown as he demanded. “ _Who?_ ”

Felicity let out an exasperated sigh, but looked upon Oliver with a fond expression as she began to provide him with more details. Something told her that his current behavior was going to be indicative of what was possibly to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan to flesh out a bit more of Leonard's character later on. Can't really put a time frame on it right now though. Already working on the next bit! Stay tuned!


	16. Tremors and Fragments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is for all my lovely readers suffering from my lack of updates. I feel your pain of fanfic withdrawal. I really do. This was originally meant to be much longer and more complicated, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to split it up for the sake of being able to provide readers with an update, so I found a good halfway point where I could cut it off. 
> 
> A quick note for those who might get confused as this fic progresses. I refer to Eobard as Eobard, because we all know that's who "Dr. Wells" is. Until I have all the characters realize that's his true identity, however, Barry and the others will constantly think of him and refer to him as Dr. Wells in their dialogue. Just wanted to give a heads up warning as this is intentional and will hopefully make something I've got planned for later easier to follow. If not, well...I tried...!
> 
> Also...I meant to have this fic wrapped up and done before Season Two, because I knew the inevitable would happen where I would need to include juicy stuff from the second season, but life got in the way so...guess the additions will be happening! LOL. 
> 
> Lastly, for those who write witty comments as they bookmark my stories...you guys CRACK me UP!! So happy to hear you all are enjoying the story and I appreciate all the support!

“Good day, Dr. Wells.”

“One can always hope, Gideon,” Eobard said dryly. “Bring up my log, would you?”

“Certainly,” the A.I. replied. “Go ahead, Doctor.”

“New entry,” Eobard began. “It has now been 311 days since lightning struck. Subject has begun relying on his speed in everyday life, using his extraordinary powers to solve ordinary problems and accomplish ordinary tasks. _Unfortunately_ , his penchant for the heroic persists.”

He paused for a moment, to allow the rage that was bubbling within him to settle. He then took in a short breath and continued.

“And while his desire to help others is commendable, it is impeding him from realizing the full scope of his abilities. But there's still time, as the future remains intact.”

 _For now_ , Eobard mused grimly, and he needed it to stay that way. This turned out to be easier said than done, much to Eobard's frustration, when the metahuman Blackout appeared, temporarily robbing Barry of his powers. Although at the time, they hadn't known that it was temporary. Especially since, according to Gideon, the Flash's existence had been completely wiped from the record. News that might have given the time traveler much glee, at one point in time, but not now. Not while he was stuck in a past he didn't belong in. So he set out to find a way to get Barry to reclaim his powers. Blackout, however, was not making it easy for Eobard to execute his plan, and so the time traveler was forced to divert his attention briefly with a distraction. Which is what led him to enter the pipeline.

Tony had been to jail before, but he'd never been in a position like the one he was in. Though he hadn't necessarily been there long, he had been there long enough to do some thinking. About his powers. About Iris. About Barry.

It was amazing to him, that even after so many years, how little Barry seemed to have changed. _Always trying to play hero_ , Tony had thought to himself. It was through this brief period of solitude that Tony came to an unexpected revelation; that perhaps what had always set him apart from Barry was the fact that the speedster always seemed to move forward in his life with purpose. It made him wonder why he hadn't thought of it before, now that he had powers, to do the same instead of playing the same old song. The timing of all this, really, was practically perfect. Eobard couldn't have even planned it any better.

Tony's head had snapped up when he heard the heavy door to the pipeline lift and his jaw clenched in anger upon seeing who he was being approached by. Now that Eobard was in front of him, the thought crossed his mind—that there was something strange about this man who called himself Harrison Wells—and for a moment, Tony couldn't help but to wonder what on earth Barry was doing working with a man like him.

“Come to check on your pet?” Tony sneered. “Why don't you just kill me, huh? Get it over with.”

“ _Quid pro quo_ ,” Eobard said calmly, appearing not at all intimidated by the metahuman. “That's Latin, Mr. Woodward. You've heard of Latin? Quid pro quo means something for something, and in this case that something is your freedom. I'm prepared to grant it to you.”

Tony frowned. “How do you know I won't kill you?” he asked.

He didn't like the way Eobard chuckled, as if he wasn't even worried that Tony could pose a threat. “Let's call that a calculated risk,” Eobard said coolly. “One I'm willing to take.”

“Really?”

“That's right.”

 _It was too good to be true_ , Tony thought to himself. _There had to be a catch._

“Why would you do that?” he asked.

“Because there is another metahuman loose in this facility,” said Eobard. “I want you to kill him.”

“ _Don't do it…!”_ an urgent voice inside him warned. _“Do **not** trust this man…!”_

“Why me?” he asked. “What about Allen?”

Eobard let out a sigh. “ _Barry_...” he said. “Is incapable of finishing the job. You see, Barry fails to understand that he can't have it all—to save the world from the bad guys, and yet let those same bad guys live. Offer them a chance to reform. It's just not logical.”

Tony couldn't help the light smirk that formed on his face. “Yeah,” he acknowledged. “That sounds like him.”

“But _you_ understand now, don't you?” said Eobard. “The importance of finishing the job?”

Tony cracked his neck. He could never back down from a challenge. That in itself would be the source of his eventual undoing. He morphed his body into full metal in response to Eobard's question. The time traveling speedster grinned.

“Good. I'm very glad you agree,” he said as he began punching in the code to have the metahuman released.

The plan would ultimately fail, but at the same time it would have served its purpose. In the aftermath, Barry would struggle with his feelings of guilt.

_“Sometimes the best way to win a fight is not to start one, but if you do come up against somebody you know you can't beat, be smart.”_

It was ironic how, as Barry recalled the advice, part of him wished the reason why Joe had been advising him in the first place had heard it too back then.

_“It's okay to run the other way.”_

Perhaps it wouldn't have made a difference, but Barry wasn't the type of guy who liked to look at a glass half-empty. It had felt good at first too, to know that Tony had been contained and that he wouldn't be pushing anyone else around anytime soon.

Now, he couldn't forget the look in Tony's eyes, just before he died. It haunted him. Tony's ability to still force a self-assured grin, even if it didn't quite reach his eyes. Even if he knew that he had finally lost.

 _“Tony. Hey, Tony! What are you doing?_ _"_

_“Oh, come on...you know me, Allen. I never run from a fight.”_

_“All right, well, stay with me, okay? You're good…!”_

Had he known what Tony had been thinking of him then, Barry might have felt worse about the whole thing. Looking up, one last time, Tony found ironic both that Barry's was the last face that he would ever see, and that he was starting to _see_ the other man for who he was, for the first time. Barry wouldn't kill; Tony had known that Eobard couldn't have been more right about that. Perhaps in another life, under different circumstances, Barry and Tony could have been friends. Maybe if Tony hadn't grown up the way he did, hardened and stubborn, he might have appreciated who Barry was as a person sooner; maybe even played some sort of supportive role. Perhaps protecting him. Unfortunately, he wasn't really in any kind of position to do any of that now; it was too late to turn over a new leaf. All he could do was offer Barry a bit of advice in the form of a warning; his last word.

_“Run.”_

And he didn't mean just from Blackout. He meant Dr. Wells also—Eobard. He was gone before he could explain further or see Barry's eyes widen in shock. The speedster bent down towards the deceased metahuman in disbelief.

“ _What? Hey, Tony. No...”_

Barry was still trembling inside when Eobard later revealed what he had done. He couldn't believe it; that Dr. Wells could be so heartless.

“I...I still have his blood on me,” Barry said, unable to comprehend Eobard's actions. “How could you do that?”

Eobard frowned. “You're showing a lot of sentiment for a man who tormented you as a child.”

“Tony might have been a bully,” Barry said tightly, his tone growing challenging. “Then and now, but he didn't deserve to _die_. Does Caitlin or Cisco? Or me or you?”

“I had a choice to make, him or us,” said Eobard. “I chose us without a second thought.”

The whole situation was really beyond Barry. In that moment, he recalled Felicity's words, the ones she had uttered shortly after Oliver had stormed out on them, irate that Barry had learned of his identity as the Arrow without his prior approval.

_“Never meet your heroes, right?”_

Those words seemed more appropriate now than they did back then. The more he was getting to know Dr. Wells, the more disillusioned he was becoming.

He frowned. “Well, all your talk about miracle cures and scientific breakthroughs, but you don't care about people at all.”

“Well, maybe you care too much, Barry,” Eobard snapped back. “I know being a hero is important to you, and I respect your ideals. I just don't have the luxury of sharing them.”

“I forgot,” Barry said sarcastically. “Your game's _chess_. We're all just pawns to you, right? So what's your move, Doctor? Which one of us gets sacrificed next?”

They were spontaneous words, sparked by anger and frustration. Spoken by a young man who could still easily give away his forgiveness. A level of innocence still untainted just enough to be both beautiful and terrifying in the unpredictability of any resulting actions by those who possessed it. It was Barry's best trait but also his worst feature, in the way it tended to triumph over his instinct; his reason.

Giving Eobard the benefit of the doubt was a mistake; one he would pay dearly for, in the future. At that time though, he hadn't known any better.

When Barry went back home later that evening, he quietly made his way up to his room and sat on the edge of his bed for a long time. He stared blankly ahead at nothing in particular, head only slightly bowed and hands clasped over his knees; his jaw tense. The image of Tony dying played over and over in his mind; his last words, uttered just as the light in his eyes grew dim.

_“Run.”_

It jolted something in his mind; Barry suddenly found himself thrust back to another horrifying memory. His mother, screaming. A yellow blur, rushing through his childhood home like a tornado. His father, shouting.

_“Run, Barry! Run!”_

Barry rose with a start, gasping for air. His clothes latched onto his body from sweat. It was then he realized that at some point he must have fallen asleep. It took several moments for him to calm down and even his breathing; steady his heart rate. When he finally did, Barry leaned back into his mattress draping one arm over his stomach and using the other to cover his eyes as he swallowed down the lump he felt in his throat.

_“It never really goes away.”_

Barry stilled. The voice took several seconds for him to place. _Oliver_.

The thought acted like a trigger. Barry unconsciously sucked in a breath as a series of images suddenly seemed to burst forth from his mind.

_Stormy weather. Oliver beside him, jolting awake. For some reason they were in bed, together. Barry reached his arms out to comfort Oliver; soothe his shaking frame._

“ _Hey! Ollie? Oll…! It's all right, I'm here. Shhh...it's okay. I've got you. I've got you...”_

Barry frowned behind his arm. The scene abruptly changed the minute he tried to hone in on the details. It was growing progressively more frustrating, each time this happened to him. It was like he was constantly skirting along the edge of realizing _something_ , but he would always get thwarted before he could ever get close enough.

_Oliver was staring straight at him. His eyes weren't empty, but they were clearly tired._

_“It never really goes away,” Oliver said, apparently answering some question that Barry must have asked. “Honestly, I can't even really say that it gets better.”_

It was clearly a different day, much later. The previous vision was for context, though Barry couldn't explain why he knew that, or how he could be so sure. Lately he was beginning to feel as if his more foreign thoughts were all actually part of a larger picture that had shattered somehow, and that he was slowly but surely working to put all the pieces back together, with whatever was slipping through the cracks.

And though it was just a passing theory, in that moment, Barry couldn't help but wonder if what he was experiencing was meant to be some form of comfort. To help him carry the burdensome feelings of failure; of loss.

_“But I can tell you this,” Oliver's voice rumbled softly. “It gets easier...once you learn how to manage it.”_

_He clasped a hand, then, over one of Barry's . It felt right, somehow. Like it fit. Barry felt his face grow warm, and a strange sense of longing pang in his chest._

Barry's heart fluttered upon feeling Oliver's thumb gently rub back and forth along the backside of his hand.  Not to mention the way Oliver's blue eyes regarded him with such warmth.  The whole thing made Barry want to grasp for the older man; wish it were real.

_“I promise.”_


	17. With a Fiery Passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW IT'S BEEN FOREVER!!!! At last...the long-awaited update!! Unfortunately, we're still a ways away from where I'd like to be, but hopefully I can plug out the next few updates faster before uni swallows my life again. Sorry it took so long—I just didn't want to post anything that could be considered junk.
> 
> By the way, just so you all know...even if the chapter titles don't seem like they don't fit with the content of the chapter itself, some of them are actually meant to drop hints for things to come. Provided that things go according to plan, I'm hoping that readers will pick up on the little tidbits here and there that become a lot more relevant later on. 
> 
> Major episode spoilers for SE01E08 of _The Flash_ , "Flash vs. Arrow." That said, things are really going to start deviating from the series canon starting from this chapter and moving forward. Hints of what readers have been waiting for all this time begin to surface in this chapter!! 
> 
> Also, on a slightly different note—something I decided on for the soulmarks...I decided to add a dash of A/B/O dynamics insofar as Oliver slowly growing increasingly more protective and aggressive, among other things, and Barry _responding_ to him. Hopefully that makes sense. If not, please feel free to ask questions.
> 
> Oh, and I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the long ass wait. Sorry about that! I'll do my best not to let that happen again. Please excuse any formatting issues—I usually check, but it's late and I'm tired. I also didn't want to put off the release of this chapter for much longer.

The recent death of Tony Woodward was something that still affected Barry deeply inside, perhaps further down than he realized at the time. The arrival of the latest metahuman threat, Roy G. Bivolo, of course, did nothing to improve his already dampened mood. Recent events planted seeds of doubt in the recesses of Barry's mind, and they were slowly but surely beginning to take root. He didn't have long to be distracted by them, however. Like most days for The Flash, there was always one threat or another interrupting any opportunities for introspection.

“ _Oliver! CCPD is responding to a metahuman sighting at—”_

The masked vigilante only half-heard the words Felicity was saying. He couldn't explain it, but he knew just where he had to go.

It was an odd thing, what being in the moment could do to a person's reaction time. Even with eight years of experience under his belt, Oliver was still sometimes guilty of hesitation himself. He liked to think though, that he was able to respond to a situation in time, when it mattered.

Like when Barry froze for a split second at the latest unfolding crime scene. The Flash had just saved Joe and two of his supporting men from a line of fire, blasted from the gun of one of their fellow officers; courtesy of the Prism. Oliver couldn't explain it, but he could sense that Barry was still thinking through what to do next. It was a moment of contemplation that would have cost him. So Oliver took his shot. It wasn't deadly, of course; the person he was firing at wasn't actually evil, just temporarily possessed. However, that didn't change the fact that he was just about to harm Barry, which Oliver couldn't possibly allow. And when his arrows hit their target, a warmth spread across the shoulder bearing his soulmark, as if it were responding to his action in approval.

What he didn't know was that in that exact moment, Barry had felt a similar sensation in his own shoulder, and when the speedster turned and made eye contact with the Arrow, he couldn't help the upward curl of his lips in recognition. Oliver found himself responding in kind.

“ _Nice mask_ ,” he said gruffly before admittedly showing off.

Rather than going out the same window he came through, Oliver did somewhat of an unnecessary back flip and made his way out through an opening in the ceiling. His actions were something akin to a courtship dance, like a peacock preening its feathers for its mate, for example. Barry didn't miss the subtle taunt in the older man's actions either, smirk and all.

“ _Why don't you catch me if you can, Barry?”_

Though Oliver had gone as quickly as he'd arrived, Barry's grin only grew wider and his gaze remained f1ixated on the hole in the ceiling a while longer. As a result, he missed the fatherly glint in Joe's eyes. Before his foster father had an opportunity to express his discontent in discovering that The Flash was working with Starling City's Vigilante, Barry quickly mumbled an excuse and rushed out of the abandoned building.

And, much like Oliver moments before, Barry didn't need anyone's help in tracking the other man. He just knew where Oliver would be. In seconds, Barry skid to a stop right by the Vigilante's motorcycle.

“What brings you to Central City, Oll?” Barry asked.

The nickname rolled off his tongue, and if either of them were surprised by the naturalness of it, neither showed it. Oliver revved his engine in response.

“I have Diggle and Felicity waiting at a safe house near here,” said Oliver. “In the marshes, just south of here. You can follow me.”

“Oh, I think I know what you're talking about,” Barry said with a grin. “Want to, uh...make things interesting?”

Oliver's brows started to furrow together at first, but then he was hit with another strange wave of familiarity; like he could almost sense what Barry was about to suggest. And for some reason, the memory of Tommy's voice rang in his ears. Though perhaps calling it a memory wasn't exactly accurate, since Oliver was pretty sure he and Tommy had never had this conversation.

“ _Kid's a bit too green to be playing games with us, don't you think?”_

_Tommy was grinning. Oliver could see Barry fidgeting nervously from the corner of his eye; could tell that the kid was scared._

_Shiny cars—all fast rides, some customized. Bets being placed, and an open road course. Unofficial, of course._

“ _Hope you're strapped in, real well?”_

While the hazy vision was playing out, Oliver could vaguely hear Barry talking about giving him a half-hour head start, and he felt himself nod absently in response. What he really wanted to do though, was to reach out for one of Barry's hands.

“ _Because we're about to go real fast.”_

“So? You ready?” Barry said, cutting into Oliver's thoughts.

The older man frowned at the speedster. “Huh? What?”

Barry shook his head and chuckled. “What? Don't tell me you weren't actually listening! You just agreed to race me there!”

“Race...” Oliver murmured to himself.

Barry cocked his head to the side and slight worry crept into his expression. “Hey..you all right?”

“Yeah...yeah, I'm fine,” Oliver said, shaking his head. “Alright. Let's go.”

Barry's expression quickly morphed into a grin. “Well, after you, then.”

The speedster didn't have to ask twice. Oliver kicked his motorcycle into gear and took off; a small smirk forming on his lips despite himself. To be fair, although Oliver probably couldn't have gone at Barry's speed, he was still probably going a tad slower than his motorcycle's full potential, mostly because he was distracted by the red blur in front of him. Most people couldn't see Barry clearly when he ran, but Oliver had eyes like a hawk. If he put forth the effort, he could see the younger man much better than most. Of course, doing so didn't come without risk. In order to focus solely on the speedster, Oliver couldn't concentrate on anything else, thereby leaving him vulnerable to any physical threats, if he were to be so careless. The Vigilante was still somewhat in a daze when he hopped off his motorcycle moments later, falling into step beside the Scarlet Speedster.

“Hey, thanks for showing up back there, but I had that,” Barry said softly to Oliver as they walked.

“Uh-huh,” the older man replied tightly, bristling a little.

“What? I was getting ready to make my move!”

“What move?” Oliver said, frowning a little. It was directed partially at Barry, but more towards himself, for the feelings of protectiveness over the other man that he couldn't quite explain. “The one to the morgue?”

Barry ignored him and changed the subject, turning his attention to Felicity and Diggle instead. The two scientists briefly exchanged information, and it was somehow decided that the two teams would work together. Oliver had his reservations, but they mostly stemmed from the desire to keep his identity as the Arrow concealed. Then, before he knew it, Barry was gone with Felicity in a blink of an eye.

“Man, that's not freaking you out?” Diggle asked.

Oliver half-smiled as he watched the red blur that was Barry zip away. “Let's go,” he murmured.

While Oliver and Diggle were on their way to gather some information for Barry, the speedster was busy getting essentially a version of the father-daughter “I don't like who you're dating and it needs to stop talk” from Joe and Dr. Wells. As Barry bat away each of their criticisms of the Arrow, he felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

“Why do I feel like I just got called into the principal's office?” Barry started.

“Starling City Vigilante,” Joe said.

One of those strange visions hit him, and Barry's mind processed it instantly.

_Barry had been waiting for Oliver in a room in the Queen mansion. Suddenly, rather than the door, the windows of the room flung open, and a badly injured man tumbled into the room. Barry whirled around, and his eyes widened with instant recognition._

“ _Holy **shit** , Ollie…!” he said as he rushed towards the man groaning on the floor. “What **happened** …? And what on earth are you wearing…?”_

_Oliver grimaced in pain. “I...haven't been completely honest with you, Barry.”_

“ _Oh, you think?”_

“ _Listen—Barry,” Oliver ground out, silencing the younger man. “This is...I am—”_

“He calls himself 'The Arrow' now,” Barry said in response to Joe.

“Oh does he, 'Flash'?” Joe asked, unamused.

Barry frowned. “Wait, what's the problem?”

“We don't trust him,” said Dr. Wells.

“You guys don't even know him,” Barry said, defensively.

Even as the two men began rattling off the Arrow's less than flattering resume, Barry crossed his arms and refused to change his stance.

“All right, but the cops there are cool with him now,” Barry said, referring to Starling City. “He doesn't kill people anymore.”

“And what about all the criminals that he puts arrows through?” Joe challenged. “Those, what, don't count?”

“He's a _hero_ , Joe,” said Barry.

“ _You're_ a hero, Barry,” Dr. Wells said, punctuating some of his words as he spoke. “You offer protection. Hope. Light.”

Barry's focus waned a little as Dr. Wells spoke. He heard Oliver's voice, whispering in his ear. He could barely grasp the images that accompanied the words.

“ _I've **killed** , Barry...” Oliver said, his eyes filled with deep sorrow and regret. “I've murdered, with these hands...”_

“What that man does is carry out a dark reckoning for this city,” said Dr. Wells. “It is a brutal, violent vision of justice, one we do not share.”

“ _I don't deserve to touch you with these hands, I...” Oliver flinched back as he withdrew the hand that was about to reach for Barry. “I'm not a hero, Barry...”_

“You truly think he's a hero, fine, so be it,” said Dr. Wells. “But he's not the kind you should be looking up to.”

Barry opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no words would come. He shook his head a bit, trying to reground himself. The strange visions always seemed to throw him off.

Right then, there was a ruckus in the main part of the lab. Joe and Barry rushed in to see what was going on, only to almost get hit by Bivolo's boomerang gone haywire. Once the situation was deemed to be under control, Joe turned his attention back to Barry.

“I want that 'Arrow' out of my city,” he said, sternly. “ _Tonight_.”

Meanwhile, Oliver and Diggle were occupied with extracting information for Barry. As much as Oliver was trying not to get distracted by his lingering thoughts of the younger man, Diggle wasn't helping. Eventually, Diggle dropped the frivolous questioning and asked Oliver something he had been avoiding asking himself.

“Well, if you're so adamant against teaming up with him, what are we doing here?”

There was a real answer to that question, of course, but Oliver would never admit it to anyone out loud.

“He's a good kid, and it's just a name, Diggle,” Oliver opted for saying instead before crashing open a set of flimsy doors. He drew his bow and pointed an arrow at a surprised man sitting behind a desk as he gruffly ground out. “The man who owns this storage unit...I want. His. Name.”

When the man initially refused, Oliver felt the usual irritation well up within him. Experience, control, and a self-imposed vow never to kill again unless absolutely necessary prevented him from doing anything more than merely maiming the individual in order to get the information he needed.

Later on that evening, Oliver was faced with a choice. Lying on his bed, one hand behind his head and the opposite leg propped up at a bend, he stared at the phone in his free hand, internally debating.

“ _Call...text...call...text...”_

Oliver let out a sigh before finally settling on a call. He closed his eyes and brought the phone to his ear, not knowing why he felt so nervous about this.

“ _H-hello?”_

Oliver sucked in a breath, not responding at first. It was strange, he noted, the feelings of nostalgia that filled him every time he heard the younger man's voice.

“ _Oliver?”_ Barry asked. _“Everything all right?”_

“Fine,” Oliver said, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. “I need to see you.”

He winced a little at how that came out. He felt his cheeks grow a bit warm, and wondered if Barry was doing the same.

“ _H-huh…?”_

Oliver half-smiled at the reaction. “Meet me at that coffee shop of yours.”

“ _...Jitters?”_

“Yeah,” said Oliver. “That's the one. 9 AM.”

“ _Nine? Okay...yeah. Sure.”_

Oliver flicked out his tongue, wetting his lower lip. “I'll be with Felicity.”

“ _O-oh...okay,”_ Barry said, and Oliver couldn't help but wonder if he'd made a mistake with that last sentence, given the disappointment he sensed in the younger man's tone. _“I'll uh...I'll bring Iris.”_

“...okay,” Oliver said, wondering why he felt a bit disappointed himself. “See you tomorrow, Barry.”

“ _Yeah, okay,”_ said Barry. _“...good night.”_

“Good night,” Oliver echoed, although it ended up being anything but.

It turned out, meeting at the coffee shop was a great idea. Oliver had ended up tossing and turning most of the night, and when he and Felicity got themselves settled at a table in Jitters, the blonde couldn't help asking him if something was wrong.

“Nothing's wrong, Felicity,” Oliver said, as firmly as he could. “Everything's fine.”

Of course, everything was _not_ fine, and as tired as he was, Oliver was hyper-aware of Barry as the speedster popped into Jitters and made a beeline for his table. The older man had brought Felicity mostly to serve as a distraction, but it wasn't working. It was getting worse, Oliver realized, this desire to just grab the speedster and go somewhere together, to make sense of something they only seemed to be scraping just the surface of. Little did he know that Barry was pretty much on the same page as he was.

“Hey,” Barry said, a bit breathless as he approached Oliver and Felicity at their table.

“The...bad guy that you're after, the one who robbed the bank, his name is Roy G. Bivolo,” Oliver rasped, perhaps a tad faster than he would have liked.

“Uh...thanks,” Barry said, eyes moving between Oliver and Felicity. “How did you find out?”

The small smile he'd been wearing vanished quickly when Oliver looked away from him. Barry immediately tensed.

“The guy's still alive, right?” he asked seriously.

When Oliver responded with a flit of his eye, Barry felt that _pull_ , yet again. There was so much Oliver told him in that one look, and it was all so familiar to him. _Like they used to communicate like this all the time._

“I'm just...asking,” Barry said, shaking his head a bit before frowning a little. “I thought you didn't want to help?”

“I'm not,” Oliver said softly. “It's...just a name.”

“...all right,” Barry said, just as Iris came by with a fresh pot of coffee for Oliver.

While his foster sister was busy chattering away, Barry found himself only half-listening and unable to keep his eyes off of Oliver. He felt a warmth spread in his shoulder again, accompanied by that same nagging feeling, the one that was growing progressively more obnoxious with each interaction with Oliver he had.

“Barry, um...can I talk to you for a second?” Iris asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Iris said, smiling at Oliver. “Bye!”

“Bye,” Oliver said, appearing at least somewhat amused.

Iris caught Barry somewhat off-guard when she smacked him in the arm after they'd walked a short distance away.

“ _Ow_ …?” he said, frowning at her and flinching a couple more times as she smacked at his arm again. “What are you doing?”

“You did _not_ tell me that you knew Oliver Queen!” Iris said, grinning wildly.

Barry let out a small sigh. “I...know Oliver Queen.”

He felt himself bristling as Iris started swooning over the Vigilante. At some point, he once again started tuning out a little bit of what Iris was saying.

“...and I just cannot stop staring at him.”

Well, as it turned out, neither could he. Barry's eyes flitted in the direction of where Oliver and Felicity were still seated, and wondered what the two of them could possibly be talking about. An odd tug of jealousy formed in the pit of his stomach.

Iris was still chatting away when Barry noticed Oliver turn to get out of his seat. He barely registered his foster sister's surprise when he automatically started walking towards the older man without so much as giving Iris a warning.

“Okay,” Oliver said as he met Barry halfway.

“Okay, what?” the speedster asked, unsure as to why he was feeling so anxious.

Oliver sighed a little. “Okay—we'll help you catch your bad guy.”

“Great!” Barry said, lighting up instantly. He gave the older man a slight upward nod as he grinned. “Metahuman.”

To Oliver's surprise, he almost couldn't suppress the upward twitch of his lips. He managed it, though.

“I am _not_ calling him that, Barry,” he said.

The speedster looked dejected by his words at first, but recovered rather quickly. The younger man's eyes lit up once more.

“Partners?” Barry asked, holding out his hand.

Oliver let out a small sigh and hesitated for just a fraction of a moment before taking Barry's hand and shaking it in agreement. “Partners.”

They shook hands for perhaps a moment longer than necessary, and both men felt that familiar warmth spread through their shoulders. Their hands separated slowly, fingers lingering a little towards the end. Oliver resisted the urge to renew his hold and pull Barry in.

“This afternoon,” he said gruffly instead. “Meet me at the same place where we met up with Diggle and Felicity before.”

Barry nodded. “Okay.”

“1 PM,” Oliver said. “Don't be late.”

“Alright.”

Of course, Oliver thought to himself, perhaps he should have known better. While waiting for Barry to show, Oliver's mind wandered and he had a few of those hazy hallucinations that he was now becoming so accustomed to getting.

_Him asking Barry to meet him for something or another at a certain time. Barry being late to every single appointment, and always ready with some frustratingly plausible excuse. Oliver realizing that he'd have to start accounting for Barry's tardy nature, and at some point scheduling their meetings to be at least two hours before he really wanted them to happen. Barry would then technically show up on time, and Oliver would never let on that he hadn't actually been waiting for him long. It was the perfect strategy._

One that Oliver hadn't thought to employ before now. He tucked away the thought for next time.

Roughly an hour after they were supposed to meet, Oliver sensed before he saw the familiar blur of red, orange, and yellow streak across the marsh towards the abandoned building where they were supposed to train. Oliver pushed gently against his motorcycle, which he had been leaning on, and approached the abandoned building nearby where he'd parked.

“Hey!” Barry said, somewhat breathless as he approached Oliver from up the small set of steps to the older man's left side.

“You're late,” Oliver said, frowning a little. “Barry, how can you have _super-speed_ and _still_ not be on time?”

Barry cringed, his facial expression apologetic, as he drew closer. “Sorry...I guess the super-tardiness kinda neutralizes it. So...how do we catch Bivolo here?”

“Oh no, we don't here,” said Oliver. “We're here to train.”

“What?” Barry asked, incredulous at first before his expression transformed into something a bit more cheeky. “Like... _Rocky?_ ”

The smile slipped from his lips when Oliver gave him that look again. Barry could read it just as clearly as he'd been able to at the coffee shop, just hours before.

Oliver then proceeded to launch into a lecture. “I read your friend Iris' blog post on The Flash, and I visited all the crime scenes you fought at.”

Barry's expression was a mixture of awe and disbelief. “Don't you sleep?”

“Last month, you took on a man named Leonard Snart.”

“We call him Captain Cold,” Barry said with a grin.

“We can talk about you giving your enemies silly code names later,” Oliver said, giving Barry the side-eye for probably the umpteenth time that day.

“You mean like over coffee with Deathstroke and the Huntress?” Barry asked, tone mildly sarcastic.

“The _point_ is that you engaged Snart on a commuter train,” Oliver said as he turned to face Barry. “Which he derailed.”

“Okay, there may have been some damage,” Barry admitted reluctantly. “But I got the job done, I was the hero.

“Barry, when you approach a new environment, do you case every inch of it?” Oliver asked. His voice slowly began to rise as he began walking back towards his motorcycle to grab his bow, Barry close behind him. “You could. You have the time. But you don't. You just run in blind. There's a difference, Barry, between having powers and having precision.”

Barry frowned. “When I came to you thinking about going out and helping people, you said I could be an inspiration.”

“Living this life…? Well...it takes more than a mask,” said Oliver. “It takes discipline. And since you are probably as stubborn as I am...”

“Whoa...what is that for?” Barry asked, looking pointedly at the bow and arrow in Oliver's hands.

“You're going to run over there, you're going to come back at me, and you're going to get hit with an arrow,” Oliver stated, matter-of-fact.

Barry laughed. “No, I'm not.”

Oliver's sarcastic laughter in response carried more bite. “Yes, you are.”

“Okay, fine! I will humor you,” Barry said, voice and expression taking on a childish tone. He zipped to the top of a hill and shouted down at Oliver. “Ready?”

Oliver drew back his bow and grunted. “ _Ready_...”

He didn't really give Barry much of an audible warning before releasing his arrow. As he expected, Barry grabbed it with ease and smirked, not realizing what was coming for him next.

“Nice try,” he said, before his back was suddenly pierced by two additional arrows that Barry had failed to see before he ran over without a second thought. “Gah! Ah! What, you _shot_ me?!”

“I heard you heal fast,” Oliver said as he moved behind Barry.

The training session was a lot more significant than either of them would realize. In fact, Barry, in particular, wouldn't put the pieces together until much later.

Barry let out a scream as Oliver ripped the arrows out of his back, as if removing a bandage clinging tightly to the skin. “Oh, God!”

Their first session deteriorated towards the end, as it became riddled with arguments, and so Oliver eventually told Barry to go home and cool his head. Unfortunately, when Barry made the decision to head back to Central City's precinct, the conversation he had with Joe didn't necessarily make things any better.

“The Arrow made another appearance last night,” Joe said disapprovingly. “And you forgot to tell me that you got Bivolo's name from shooting that storage guy in the leg.”

“Well, _technically_ , I didn't shoot him,” Barry said quickly in response.

“Well, what word would you use to describe how you got this info...?” Joe asked with a frown. “I'm gonna go with... _torture_.”

Barry let out a small sigh. “I don't...the Arrow gets results.”

“He's a crazy man,” Joe responded stubbornly.

“Look, I don't actually disagree with you at the moment, but we wouldn't even have Bivolo's name if it weren't for The Arrow,” said Barry. “So maybe instead of judging him, you should just be thanking him.”

“Two things I won't be doing in this life,” Joe deadpanned. “Playing professional baseball, and thanking that lunatic.”

Barry sighed and shook his head. Whether he'd admit it or not, Barry was already a mess of emotions at that point. Distracted with a myriad of thoughts, Barry decided the next best step was to head to S.T.A.R. Labs.

Once there, he'd been almost immediately informed of Bivolo's next location. Still salty from his training session with Oliver, Barry went against Felicity's suggestion of calling the Arrow for help, which resulted in his playing right into Bivolo's hand.

His already strained emotions continued to be stretched to the breaking point when Caitlin began to lecture him in a similar manner as Oliver had done during their brief training session. In the back of his mind, Barry knew he was wrong for firing back at her the way he did, but he hadn't been able to help himself.

A small voice in the back of his mind told him to, at the very least, alert Felicity that he was beginning to get the sense that something was decidedly wrong, but he chose not to. When he received Oliver's text shortly thereafter, Barry felt a mixture of anticipation and loathing. The latter emotion ended up winning out.

Oliver felt the rush of wind at his back when Barry sped back to their rendezvous point. He could feel Barry's eyes boring into him from behind, and the older man decided to wait until the speedster chose to speak.

“Thinking of new ways to embarrass me?” Barry asked, hot.

Oliver slowly turned around to look at the younger man. “I'm not trying to embarrass you, Barry, but you went after Bivolo last night, _alone_ , and you lost him.

Barry scoffed at him. “And you've never had a misstep?”

“Course I've had missteps,” Oliver said with a soft sigh. “Barry, I have been living this life for almost eight years, encountering things that you can't even fathom, and I am still alive. _Not_ because super-speed kept me out of the ground. It was because I realized that I needed to keep learning, keep training, keep getting smarter...and until you get that, despite your best intentions, you will do more harm than good.”

The flicker of something uncharacteristic in the speedster's eyes. That was Oliver's first clue.

“I finally see it,” Barry sneered softly. “You're a little bit jealous of me, aren't you? A guy like you, handsome, rich, can have any girl he wants, jealousy's probably a new emotion for you, so you might be a little slow to get what it is that you're feeling.”

Oliver's lips twitched slightly upward at the corners, despite himself. “That's your theory?”

“ _Absolutely_ ,” Barry said, slowly bringing his face closer to Oliver's with each sentence. “So you can train, lift weights, climb that stupid barn till your heart explodes, but you'll _never_ be as fast as I am. You'll never _be_ what I am. And that's gotta hurt your rock-hard pride, _Ollie_.”

It took great self-control to suppress the urge to cast his bow aside and slam Barry down onto the floor. Oliver couldn't figure out where the sudden desire to crush his lips against Barry's was coming from. Deciding that the best course of action was to leave and let alone, Oliver let Barry stride past him without protest.

“I told Felicity you didn't want my help,” he said.

“Yeah?” Barry called back, shouting just before he zipped away. “You're finally right about somethin'…!”

Perhaps a half-second later than he would have liked, Oliver brought out his phone and called Felicity, informing her of his observations. It would later turn out that they had more problems than Barry potentially going berserk on them, though Felicity wouldn't have a chance to tell him about Dr. Wells until after they all teamed up together to calm Barry down.

Oliver got to the scene just as Barry was about to do something he would seriously regret to Iris' significant other, Eddie Thawne. Shortly after providing a distraction that allowed Eddie and Iris to get away, he was dragged down the street by an enraged Flash.

The Arrow counted down the speedster's paces in his head, and when the opportune moment came, he took the shot. His projectiles flew past Barry's head and smacked into a fuse box behind the younger man. Barry's emotions shifted almost as quickly as his speed—surprise and then amused arrogance.

“You _missed_ ,” he said.

The smile he'd been wearing immediately faded when he saw the solemn look on Oliver's face—Barry _knew_ that look somehow, even if he couldn't place it at that moment—as he shook his head at the speedster.

“No,” Oliver said, right as his arrows set off a charge, the explosion that followed pushing Barry forward with great force.

“ _Aah!_ ” Barry screamed as he fell to the ground.

Another one of those hazy visions slammed him when he hit the pavement. He got something of a sense that _they had fought like this before, a long time ago. An argument filled with rage, accompanied with physical tousling._

There had also been _passion_. Barry drummed the fingers of his right hand once, forming a fist with the other, when he slowly lifted his head. He was not only angry now, but he was also confused. There was an emotion, welling up in his chest, demanding that he do something before he burst.

It took a second for his eyes to adjust, but when they did, Barry noticed that Oliver was no longer in front of him. Irritated, Barry hopped back onto his feet, only to be pierced in his shoulder by an arrow.

“2000 milligrams of horse tranquilizer,” Oliver declared as he took several steps closer to the speedster. “Should be hitting you any time now.”

Groaning with a mixture of frustration and pain, Barry managed to rip the arrow from his shoulder and let it drop with a clang before forcing his body to vibrate at a speed that successfully eradicated the tranquilizer from his bloodstream. Oliver watched this happen with a tinge of awe as he made a mental note to himself to avoid announcing things that were better left to the element of surprise. Real life wasn't a cartoon, after all. Letting an opponent know the name or nature of your attack may not work against enemies in an animation, but actual people weren't nearly as stupid. Real people reacted to vital information.

Much like Barry did, when he decided to starting spinning at lightning speeds around the Arrow. Sharp eyes coming in handy, Oliver found a place where he could land his arrow and took the shot, letting the rope pull him out of there.

“Where you going?” he heard Barry scream after him.

Oliver noted the flash of red, orange, and yellow sprinting ahead of him along the side of the building he was currently pulling up on. He mentally readied himself for what he anticipated would be Barry's next move.

Which is exactly what the speedster did. “We're not done!” Barry yelled as he yanked Oliver's arrow out from its hold.

Oliver shot another arrow and it landed in about the same place as the other one. Barry sped down to meet the Vigilante at about the same time as the older man's feet touched the ground.

“Is that all you got?” Barry taunted before rushing at Oliver.

As many hits as Barry landed, little did he know that Oliver was casing _him_. Knowing nothing else would be distracting them, Oliver knew concentrating on Barry's movements wouldn't be as much of a risk as they would have been in any number of alternate situations.

Neither of them knew it yet, but there was a reason why Oliver was able to master what should have been impossible. Something perhaps only another metahuman with super speed should have been capable of, and Oliver couldn't just credit the ability to solely from the wealth of experiences he gained while held in captivity on Lian Yu.

No. Oliver's knowledge came from experiences of another kind.

Realizing that Barry still reacted the way most people would when avoiding a punch, even if he was going at super speed, Oliver swung his fist back again after first missing his target. When the hit landed, it not only surprised Barry, but it enraged him further. Without hesitation, Barry came after him. They hurt, the punches, but the pain was dulled somewhat by the hazy visions that Oliver was becoming so accustomed to experiencing.

_A much more tender vision of Barry; his eyes, so filled with concern. Warm hands, reaching for him—gently caressing his face._

“ _Nothing changes, Ollie,” the younger man said, resolute. “You're still a good man.”_

_Oliver felt himself flinch away, but this made Barry even more stubborn, and the younger man drew closer. The speedster's face hovered dangerously close._

“ _We **will** get through this,” Barry promised, keeping Oliver from moving too far away from him. “I love you.”_

The mere possibility that this could somehow be real, that Barry would somehow say such words to a person such as him, took Oliver's breath away more than the punch that took away the images flashing before him.

It took him a second, to gather his bearings after Barry had knocked him away, but when Oliver found the right moment, he pressed the button on a little device he had with him, an action which released two arrows straight for Barry's back.

This time, the speedster was prepared for them. Barry had to admit though, that the whole thing was still a bit irritating. The fact that Oliver had positioned arrows in the perfect spot only meant that the older man had been anticipating his every move, perhaps even the ones that Barry had yet to know to make himself.

“Fool me once!” he ground out in his vibrato.

Oliver quickly rolled over and threw a shorter arrow towards Barry's leg. It pegged him straight through the thigh, and the speedster crumpled partway to the pavement, groaning.

“G— _ah!_ _Haa…_!” Barry screamed as he pulled the arrow out from his leg, letting it clatter to the ground.

“Ugh... _fuck_...” Oliver muttered under his breath, slowly getting up and holding his side, preparing for his next move.

Still in pain, Barry was panting and waiting to feel his leg begin its speedy healing process. Equally out of breath, Oliver stared at Barry through half-lidded eyes. Though he couldn't see the visions anymore, the one distinct voice remained.

“ _I still believe in you, Ollie.”_

A sentiment Oliver echoed out loud. “I still believe in you, Barry.”

Anger surged through Barry, but the source wasn't all Oliver. There was confusion and frustration too. The heat in his shoulder wasn't helping matters either.

Instead of charging forward, Barry decided to take a step and throw a punch, one that Oliver easily anticipated. When hand met fist, it was like an electric current surged through them. They were like pieces of a puzzle that fit. The whole thing threw Barry, and it would have been the same for Oliver as well, but this was, as Diggle would have liked to put it, where the older man's experience came into play. He pushed aside the burning desire to pull the man in forward, and instead punched Barry's arm, using the momentum gained to his advantage by turning Barry around and pulling him in that way instead.

The choke hold was ordinary; it wasn't even necessarily one of Oliver's best, in terms of form. Barry should have been able to get himself out of it, but he didn't. He was dizzy and disoriented, even before Joe and Dr. Wells came by with their color therapy equipment and van. Right now, he was distracted with his thoughts of Oliver. His unexpected _need_ for Oliver. He just wasn't sure what it was he wanted from the older man; he only knew that he was anticipating  _something_.

Oliver, of course, was a step ahead. However, he also was a master at setting things aside for later. Especially if those things involved some sort of emotion.

When Joe and Dr. Wells activated the flashing colorful lights, Oliver kept his hold on Barry until he could sense that it was okay to let go. Oliver was mesmerized himself by the lights at first, but then his focus fell on Barry, his eyes softening with concern when the younger man brought his hands to his face and started groaning in pain. Admittedly, Oliver felt somewhat pleased when Barry slowly turned his body towards him.

“Barry…?” Oliver asked, holding himself from embracing the other man and checking him more closely. Not only would it have been uncharacteristic for him to do, but Oliver suspected that the younger man had been through enough surprises for one day. “You okay?”

Barry's breathing was labored, but he eventually was able to catch enough of his breath to crack a small joke. “Oh, this is going to be a special kind of hangover...”

A small, shared chuckle escaped both their lips at the statement. The older man then waited a moment before trusting himself to take several steps forward and allow the speedster to use him as a crutch. There was a short stretch of silence between them, where Barry was panting and hobbling, where Oliver sneaked a glance and looked at Barry, really observing him. He quickly looked away, acting like he hadn't been, as soon as he saw Barry start to look at him as they moved along.

“Oliver...” Barry said sheepishly. “I'm so sorry.”

“It's not your fault,” Oliver said, shaking his head. “But we do still have your metahuman to take care of. Anything left in the tank?”

“Well...if not, there's two of us, right?” Barry responded, a small smile forming on his lips.

Oliver's lips quirked a bit as well. “Right.”

Whether they realized it or not, the pair was perfectly synchronized when they got around to fighting Bivolo. They were able to capture the metahuman with ease and throw him into one of the prison cells at S.T.A.R. Labs.

Oliver lagged a bit behind the others as they left the area. He attempted to address the elephant in the room that had formed between himself and Barry by trying to make a bit light of the situation.

“I have a prison like this,” Oliver said, resisting the temptation to turn around and look at Barry dead on. “Mine's on a nearly inhospitable island in the north China Sea, but this works too.”

As much as he wanted to run after the older man, without understanding where those feelings were coming from, Barry stopped in his tracks and his posture slumped slightly, almost in defeat. Barry briefly thought back on the snide comments he had made towards Oliver before.

“ _You're a little bit jealous of me, aren't you? A guy like you, handsome, rich, can have any girl he wants...”_

Yet he was the one that had sounded like the jealous one, Barry realized right then. Jealous of Oliver's seemingly never ending long line of groupies, so out of touch with reality and hoping that they somehow had a chance, despite how ridiculous the notion was.

The question was, _why_ Barry seemed to feel that way. The younger man remained where he was as he mulled over the thought.

Meanwhile, Oliver was informing Dr. Wells, Joe and the others of how imperative it was to keep his secret identity as the Arrow a secret. Dr. Wells then later took Oliver briefly aside and made a comment that perhaps wasn't actually wise for the doctor to have made; not with someone as sharp as the Vigilante.

“Mr. Queen, I met your father once,” said Dr. Wells. “Charity event. One of the things we spoke of was you. I think he would be very proud of the man you've become.”

Oliver immediately felt something suspicious about the doctor, and as he spoke, his intuition only nagged harder. He did his best, however, to not let his suspicions show.

“Thank you. And please,” Oliver said, immediately plastering on a fake, but believable smile and stepping forward to shake the doctor's hand. “Call me Oliver.”

He didn't like the little smirk that was forming on the doctor's face. Oliver did his best not to frown at the action.

Heading out with his team, and when he was sure that everyone else in S.T.A.R. Labs was just out of earshot, Oliver made comment of his observation to Felicity.

“There is something... _off_ about that guy,” he said.

Much later than evening, when Oliver got out of his shower at home, he noticed that there was a text message waiting for him from Barry. Rubbing at his head with a towel, Oliver used his free hand to unlock his phone and take a look at the contents of the message.

“ _How about Jitters tomorrow morning?”_ the text message read.

A small smile formed on the older man's lips as he typed a reply. _“Sure. How about 9?”_

The response was almost immediate. _“Perfect,”_ it read. _“See you then.”_

Oliver then quickly got himself ready for bed and went to sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, although sleep wasn't exactly restful. Even in his dreams, he was starting to become progressively more distracted by Barry.

Which was why Oliver was a bit late for his meeting with Barry the next day. To his surprise, Barry appeared to have arrived on time. He was going to make a comment on it, when he instantly noticed that Barry's attention was elsewhere. Curious, Oliver followed the younger man's melancholy gaze and noticed that he was staring at Iris.

What Oliver didn't know, was that he was misreading the situation. What Oliver saw was a lovelorn young man, when in reality, Barry was mulling over something else entirely.

For all his speed and intelligence, there were times where Barry simply took more time in putting all the pieces together, in a manner of speaking. Recent events sparked an idea in Barry, thoughts that were still forming at the edge of his brain. That perhaps his feelings for Iris weren't at all what he had previously understood them to be.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when he noticed Iris look in his direction with a big smile on her face. Barry didn't know how, but he immediately got the sense that she wasn't looking at him, and then he just _knew_ that Oliver Queen was beside him. Part of him was grateful that Iris had captured Oliver's attention for the moment, because that meant neither of them had noticed Barry's awkwardness.

After Iris walked away and Oliver started to walk around the table he was sitting at to sit across from him, Barry's expression suddenly changed to one of nervousness. Anxiety that stemmed from more than his feeling of need to apologize to the older man for his actions while under Bivolo's influence.

“Um...so listen,” Barry said, eyes downcast. “I'm... _really_ sorry for what I said in the field, and then last night in the street.”

Oliver brought a hand up to his lips, covering them to conceal the small smile that was forming there. He couldn't hide the fondness reflected in his eyes though, although Barry was at the moment too flustered to notice.

“I wish I could say it was all because of whatever Bivolo did to me, but I guess I had more feelings bottled up than I thought,” Barry concluded.

At some point during the younger man's apology, Oliver brought his hand down while making a conscious effort not to reach for Barry's hand, even though he wanted to. Even if there was a tug in his mind that said it was appropriate.

“You can always talk to me,” Oliver said, and he could swear he saw disappointment flicker through the younger man's eyes.

It was probably just a trick of the light though, Oliver reasoned within himself. There was no way Barry could be feeling the same way he was recently. He hadn't noticed any signs. At least, none that he could recognize, anyway.

“Yeah. Thank you,” said Barry. “And you were right, I still have...a _lot_ to learn.”

“There's one more thing...” Oliver said quickly after that. “And you're not going to like it.”

Barry's eyebrows scrunched together a bit in confusion. “Does it...involve you shooting me in the back?”

“No,” Oliver said, letting out a soft chuckle. “No, the heart.”

The small, shared smile faded almost instantly from both their lips, and Barry's eyes were the first to flicker in the direction of Iris and Felicity hovering by the cash register. If Barry were to be honest with himself, he had almost completely forgotten that they were there.

“That's not going to work out for you,” Oliver said, voice dropping to a raspy whisper. “You need to let her go. For both of your sakes.”

 _That isn't it_ , Barry felt himself wanting to say. He also felt another one of those hazy visions forming in the far reaches of his mind, but this time he wasn't immediately shown some scene. In fact, this time, he could almost feel it almost teasing him, dangling just out of his reach. His eyes met Oliver's when the older man turned back towards him after having briefly glanced over in the girls' direction.

“Guys like us...don't get the girl,” said Oliver.

“Hm...” Barry breathed out softly.

Oliver's words did pierce the heart, but perhaps not in the way the older man had been expecting. Not only did it hurt, Barry also got the sense that they had just talked past each other, somehow. Like something important had gotten lost in translation somewhere.

There was a brief moment, where Barry could have reached out; taken hold of Oliver's hand. He wanted to. Something told him the older man wouldn't mind, and yet, he hesitated just long enough for Felicity to come back with two cups of coffee, one of them meant for Oliver. And, just like that, the moment was lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depending on how my muse treats me, next chapter may very well be the moment you've all been waiting for! Stay tuned!!


	18. Breaking Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real life's got me in a funk right now, and unfortunately I think it's affected my writing some, though it's hard to say whether it's in a good or bad direction at the moment, so apologies if this chapter doesn't meet the usual standards. If I'm going to be completely honest...I'm not even entirely sure how I feel about the way this chapter turned out, but I do hope people will still be able to find this one to be satisfactory. 
> 
> Spoilers for _Arrow_ 's SE03E08 "The Brave and the Bold," with MAJOR changes to scenes towards the end of the episode.

A week passed by since the Prism incident, and things were silent for the most part in Central City. That was, until Barry got the call from Caitlin.

“ _Oliver's in trouble, Barry.”_

The speedster stopped what he was doing and shot towards Starling City without hesitation and listened to details from Caitlin through the communications system built into his suit on the way. Captain Boomerang, as Cisco liked to call him, was spotted at an A.R.G.U.S. facility, and Diggle and Lyla were there. Apparently there were concerns that Roy and Oliver wouldn't make it to their rescue in time, and that even if they did, they were still in trouble. Captain Boomerang had managed to take out a fair number of A.R.G.U.S. agents.

The sudden attack meant that Oliver didn't have an opportunity to assess the situation as carefully as he would have liked. The minute Roy's bow was knocked out of his hands by a pesky boomerang, the Arrow couldn't help feeling a sinking sense of foreboding.

In the midst of the fight, Oliver made one critical mistake, and that was allowing his attention to get split in too many directions at once. He was simultaneously concerned with Roy being on the floor, assessing his opponent's next move, and trying to figure out his own, which caused him to stumble slightly and place himself directly in the line of fire. The boomerangs were flying at him faster than he knew he could get out of the way. Fortunately, instead of his life flashing before his eyes, Central City's Scarlet Speedster did instead.

Oliver saw him before anyone else in the room could even register what had happened. He saw Barry gracefully catch the pair of boomerangs and spin a short distance away with them. As Barry skid to a stop, Captain Boomerang was the first to react. Knowing he was out of his depth at the moment, he threw a smokescreen bomb and fled the scene.

As the smoke cleared, Oliver confirmed that the immediate threat was gone before glancing over at Barry. The speedster gave him a cheeky grin before zipping away.

 _“Making your move?”_ he had seemed to say.

Oliver made a mental note to deal with the kid later. After everyone else recovered from their shock, Lyla was the first to speak.

“What was that?” she asked.

Not liking her tone and feeling a sense of protectiveness over Barry, Oliver didn't miss a beat and responded tightly, remnants of his “Arrow” voice still evident. “Better question. Who attacked you?”

Diggle sighed as he looked at Lyla. “And don't tell him it was an internal A.R.G.U.S. matter.”

Knowing a warning when she heard one, Lyla let out a sigh herself and began explaining the situation. Shortly thereafter, the four of them began to make their way to the Arrow cave.

Meanwhile, at said Arrow cave, Barry utilized his super-speed while using Oliver's salmon ladder. Notwithstanding the fact that Barry more than likely would not have been able to conquer the device without his speed, he eventually jumped down and acted nonchalant about the whole thing.

“I don't see what's so hard about that,” he said as he passed the rod he was using off to Cisco before approaching Felicity and Caitlin by some computers.

“I'm not sure she should have called you,” Felicity said, looking at Barry while placing a hand on Caitlin's shoulder.

Barry frowned, and Caitlin's eyes widened a bit as she looked at the blonde. She didn't know why, but she got the sense that there was a dual-layered conversation happening here.

“Oliver doesn't play well with others,” Felicity said, and there was a flicker of _something_ in her eyes, which Barry subconsciously noted.

“Aw, c'mon,” Cisco said, clearly unable to read the mood since his back was turned to them, preoccupied with Oliver's salmon ladder. “Barry and Oliver kicked ass last week.”

“Yeah!” Barry said, and though he'd never admit it out loud, he felt childishly smug as he agreed.

“They were in like...a league of their own,” Cisco said, grunting as he barely managed a pull-up.

“Yeah, that was like, a one-time thing,” Felicity said, a bit of snark in her voice.

Without a rational explanation as to why he wanted to be snippy back, Barry kept his tone level as he attempted to diffuse the situation.

“The dude was tossing around exploding boomerangs. They needed some back-up...and I need some dinner. That salmon ladder made me hungry for sushi,” Barry said before zipping off to do just that.

When he returned, Diggle, Oliver, and Roy were back in the Arrow cave as well, along with Lyla. It was a mixture of his still mostly-intact innocence and unwavering trust in Oliver's team that gave him little reason to feel overly cautious about hiding his face under his mask. He figured anyone who Oliver allowed to know his true identity as the Arrow was also safe in his book. Which was why he was momentarily surprised when Caitlin and the others reprimanded him for his incorrect assumption, either through words or subtle expressions. Particularly bothersome was Oliver's looks of disappointment; although Barry attempted to ignore them.

“We need a location on the man who's after Lyla,” Oliver said, assigning his friends essentially some work to keep them busy for a moment. “His name is Digger Harkness.”

The Vigilante's tone was an obvious signal to all but one in the room. Misinterpreting the segue as an opportunity to lighten the mood, Barry piped up.

“Well! The first step is to work the evidence,” Barry said as he got up from his chair.

“Barry, can I speak to you for a moment, please?” Oliver said, cutting the speedster off as he made his way around one of the tables, making it clear Barry was to follow.

The speedster let out a soft sigh before following the older man, noting the sympathetic glances cast by the rest of the members of the room. Had he looked a bit harder, he might have noticed Lyla's contemplative glance as she quietly assessed the situation.

“I appreciate your help, back at A.R.G.U.S., but we have this handled,” Oliver whispered when he felt they were mostly out of earshot from the rest of their crew.

Barry frowned. “What—you don't want to team up again?”

Oliver sighed in mild exasperation. “Things...work _differently_ , here. Starling City is meaner.”

“I seem to remember helping you pretty good last year, and that was without powers,” Barry said, and there was a hint of flirtatiousness to his expression that he may not exactly have been aware of. Even Oliver's lips unconsciously quirked at the corners. “I've been practicing everything you taught me. I'm—I'm casing new environments; I'm not running in blind…!”

Oliver rolled his eyes. As annoyed as he was though, he couldn't help but to acknowledge the twinge of fondness he felt within his heart.

“ _Sentimentality will be the death of you, Oliver Queen...”_ a little voice inside of him said.

Of course, he was never all that great at heeding his own warnings. Even knowing it was going against his better judgment, Oliver shook his head and decided to give in.

“We do this my way,” Oliver said, a ghost of a smile still tugging at his lips, despite himself.

“ _Yes!_ ” Barry said, expression lighting up instantly. “This is going to be _awesome!_ Okay. What's our first move?”

“We need to reassemble the evidence,” Oliver said, voice raising to a more normal volume as he headed back to where the pieces of boomerang were set on one of the tables. “It will take some time, but it'll—”

He'd barely gotten the words out when he felt a gust of wind brush by him. The thought that he should have known better than to have said what he did finished crossing his mind at the same time Barry completed putting all the broken pieces of boomerang together.

“...but it'll be worth it,” Oliver said, if only for the purpose of finishing his sentence.

A thought tickled in the back of his mind—like he should be used to this, and that what just occurred was almost like a small inside joke between them somehow, but Oliver pushed the ideas away quickly. There were more important matters to deal with at the moment. After a brief discussion among Teams Flash and Arrow, the speedster and Vigilante followed a lead at SCPD.

The odd feelings of nostalgia tugged at both men more incessantly than ever when they arrived to the station to meet with the now Captain Lance. The atmosphere between them had undergone a slight shift. Their conversation as they walked up to the doors of SCPD was light, and almost a little _too_ familiar. If either man noticed the way their hands brushed together ever so slightly as they made their way through the double doors, neither let on about it.

When Laurel pulled Oliver aside to ask him something, Barry almost lost focus on gathering information. His eyes lingered a bit too long in Oliver's direction, and the older man was the same after he'd answered to Laurel's satisfaction. It was still subtle enough, however, that only those searching for the signs would have noticed something different between the pair that evening.

It didn't start to become more obvious to either man until they went to deal with the Russian mob. Feeling Barry rush past him was the only reason why Oliver didn't draw his weapon out with nearly as much urgency as he normally did on missions.

The fact that Barry was making things easier on the flow of the mission should have brought some comfort, but it only made Oliver feel unsettled. The older man wasn't used to things panning out that smoothly. He was always wary of seemingly overwhelming good fortune. Perhaps though, that was why he ended up creating his own damaging self-fulfilling prophecy, and made a mistake during his interrogation with Klaus Markos. He'd let emotions get in the way.

When he saw the look of horror on Barry's face as he shot an arrow through Markos' shoulder, something twisted inside him. Like the whole situation was right and yet wrong at the same time.

_“I...haven't been completely honest with you, Barry.”_

The speedster, of course, was experiencing a similar conflict. There was the initial shock, of course, that Oliver was revealing himself to be who people had been warning him he was, but there was something else, too.

“ _I've **killed** , Barry...I've murdered, with these hands...”_

The strange sense of pride he felt; that's what terrified him more. Especially when he sensed just how close Oliver was in making good on his threat to pull the Arrow out of Markos' arm. He _knew_ the moment when Oliver glanced at him, leaving the arrow in Markos and walking away, that he hadn't gone through with it because of _him_.

“ _I don't deserve to touch you with these hands, I...”_

Though a voice nagged at his mind, telling him to just accept things for what they were, Barry couldn't. To put it simply, he was disappointed, even though the voice inside him was telling him that he was wrong to feel that way.

_“I'm not a hero, Barry...”_

He could tell from the older man's posture that Oliver wasn't going to move. Swiftly, but carefully, Barry removed the arrow from Markos' arm and sped him to SCPD, where he cuffed the convict to Captain Lance's file cabinets in his office before zipping back to where he'd left Oliver.

The argument they had next was significantly different from any other verbal spat they'd had previously; that they were aware of, anyway. It was the closest they'd come to a lover's quarrel, in this timeline.

“Felicity can crack the encryption,” Oliver said, gesturing to the phone in his hand while unconsciously trying to allay the inevitable fight. “Use this to track down Harkness.”

“You tortured that guy,” Barry said, voice sounding pained.

“I interrogated him,” said Oliver.

Barry scoffed. “When my friend said your tactics made you a criminal, I defended you because I thought you were supposed to be a hero. I thought we were supposed to be better than them.”

“Barry...” Oliver said tightly. “You live in Central City. Where it's _sunny_ all the time, and your enemies get cute nicknames. You're _not_ in Central City.”

“Yeah,” Barry said softly, immediately regretting getting Oliver so worked up.

“I live in a city where my best friend was murdered. Where a woman that I loved was shot full of arrows and sent tumbling off a rooftop. Where my mother was murdered right in front of me,” Oliver said, getting a step closer to Barry with each statement. “So before you—”

“My mother was murdered in front of me, too,” Barry said, effectively cutting the other man off. “But I don't use my personal tragedies as an excuse to just torture whoever pisses me off.”

“Well, I'm sorry, Barry, I'm not as emotionally healthy as you are,” Oliver said before walking away from the speedster.

The whole situation felt oddly like a break-up, and Barry felt his heart clench. He turned around and called after Oliver.

“What's wrong with you?!”

“When we agreed that you were staying, we _decided_ that it would be on _my_ terms,” Oliver growled back at him. “If that is proving too difficult for you, _you_ know your way back to Central City!”

Barry's mouth opened and closed like a fish. Tears stung at his eyes, but he managed to keep them in check. Oliver was similarly affected, jaw tensing as he marched away from Barry, resisting the urge to turn around and run back to the other man.

The speedster allowed Oliver to get a head start, but he later ran at a significantly slower pace alongside Oliver's motorcycle as they headed back to the Arrow cave. Both men were still upset with each other, but the feelings were starting to simmer down a little, enough that they entered the base together, though the atmosphere between them was still somber.

No one seemed to want to make the first move in addressing the brooding superheroes, but Lyla finally decided to be the one to break the somewhat uncomfortable silence, approaching Oliver, who was pretending to stare at his display of arrows.

“Everything all right between you and Speedy?” she asked softly.

Oliver frowned, wondering what she was talking about. He wasn't sure if Lyla was talking about Thea, and there was no tension between them currently, so he assumed she wasn't talking about his sister.

“What? Roy?” Oliver asked, jumping to what he thought was the only other reasonable conclusion. “Yeah, we're fine.”

“I meant _him_ ,” Lyla said, arms crossed and a knowing expression on her face as she gestured towards Barry.

“Oh,” Oliver said, glancing back at Barry, who to his surprise seemed to have been staring at him. Part of him wondered how long. “We had a...difference of opinion about the way the world works.”

“Yup, I know what that's like,” Lyla said, looking back at Diggle, who scoffed a little, clearly having heard her.

“Well, sometimes they don't see it,” said Oliver.

“That there are people in the world who deal only in extremes—”

“And it would be _naïve_ to think that anything less than extreme measures will stop them,” Oliver said, finishing her sentence.

“Sometimes bravery isn't enough,” said Lyla. “Sometimes the world requires us to be bold.”

“Whatever the personal cost,” Oliver agreed.

Of course, Barry had been listening to the exchange, and in doing so, something snapped into place. This time, when the little voice in his head told him to accept Oliver, for all his imperfections, Barry was a lot more willing to listen. So when Oliver assigned Diggle and Roy their roles in tracking down Harkness, Barry stood in the Vigilante's path and made firm eye contact.

“I'll race you there,” he said, in the form of an apology, which Oliver accepted with a nod.

What they fell back into was a forgotten rhythm, like they'd been doing this for years. Still, Oliver never fully let down his guard.

“You're late,” Barry said with a cheeky grin as he entered the room.

Oliver might have laughed at the playful comment, had it not been for the man trying to attack Barry from behind, who the Vigilante shot down without hesitation. Barry winced in embarrassment when he realized that he hadn't been the older man's target.

“I...knew he was there,” Barry said sheepishly. Then, with hesitation he asked. “He's not...dead, right?”

“Tranq arrow,” Oliver said with a small sigh. “Same thing I used on you in Central City.”

Right about then was when Diggle and Roy entered the room. Diggle had his gun drawn.

“Cisco has the van running,” he said as he assessed the situation and deemed it safe enough to lower his gun.

“I see you met Harkness' hired muscle,” Roy chimed in.

“Harkness isn't here,” Oliver growled in annoyance before demanding answers from one of the restrained men. This time he didn't resort to violence, though he'd never admit out loud it was for Barry's sake. “Hey! Where's Digger Harkness?”

“Never met 'im!” the man he'd been addressing spat before holding up a cell phone. “But he paid us 10 Gs to give you this.”

A chill ran down Barry's spine when he realized what that meant. Diggle said exactly what he was thinking as Oliver slowly turned around, phone in his hand.

" Ten'll get you twenty this belongs to Harkness.”

“What does that mean?” Roy asked.

“That Harkness _played_ you,” Barry said before Oliver could.

They rushed back to the Arrow cave as fast as they could, but it wasn't soon enough. Angered by his failure to save Lyla and feeling completely responsible for her condition, Oliver forced everyone to leave him alone to brood in his thoughts. The only person who wasn't forced to leave, of course, was Barry.

“This is all my fault,” Oliver said with certainty when he heard Barry's heavy footfalls behind him.

Barry let out a soft sigh and leaned against a wooden pole. “It's really not,” he said, shaking his head.

“I _tortured_ Markos...to give up that phone,” said Oliver. “None of this would have happened if it wasn't for me.”

Barry inhaled. “I get the feeling you don't say that very often.”

“To do what I do, Barry, it takes...conviction,” Oliver said as he slowly turned to face Barry. “But...more often than not, it's the will to do what's ugly.”

He took several small steps towards the younger man. Emotion wracked his voice; his eyes grew glassy.

“Every time I do that, I'm...I'm trading away little... _pieces_ of myself,” Oliver said, pained. “So...you asked what's _wrong_ with me, that's—that's what's wrong. Because the part that I'm trading away is _Oliver Queen_...”

A heat spread in Barry's shoulder, prompting him to step closer to Oliver; meet him halfway. His vision flickered between buried memories of a previous timeline and his current reality.

“And lately, I've been feeling like there is...nothing left except the Arrow.”

Glimpses of an Oliver with a brighter disposition and this tortured one, and right when Oliver made his last statement, Barry abruptly closed the gap between them. Barry crushed his lips against Oliver's and in a surprising show of force, pushed him against a wall. The older man was too stunned to react at first, but Barry's lips were soft and he was so gentle in his coaxing that it didn't take long for Oliver to give in.

The kiss lasted for what seemed like forever, and in that time, both their shoulders reacted with heat. Oliver found himself raking a hand through the younger man's hair, the kiss growing progressively more passionate. Finally, they eventually broke away from each other, breathing harshly and foreheads pressed together. Barry's hands remained cupped around Oliver's cheeks, and he brushed his thumbs back and forth against the older man's face.

“I think you're full of crap,” he said breathlessly before making eye contact, looking straight into Oliver's oceanic depths. “Look. You've convinced yourself that everything you've been through took away your humanity. But I think it's because of your humanity that you made it through. You wouldn't have survived, much less come out the other end a _hero_ , somebody who wants to do _good_ , if you didn't have a _light_ inside of you.”

It didn't hit them, how strange it was — the whole thing had felt so right that neither had the mind to address how natural it all felt. Then, there was the sound of a door opening and the clacking of Felicity's heels as she entered the base, and it was in that moment where both men broke away , quickly. Surveying the scene before her, the blonde tech guru had a stunned expression that mirrored Barry's.

“I-I'm sorry, if I'm...interrupting,” Felicity said as she stopped in front of them. “I ran facial recognition on Harkness, and I have a match.”

Still a bit dazed, Oliver turned to glance at Barry for a moment, and they shared a silent conversation.

_“We're going to have to talk about this, Barry.”_

_“Yeah...but right now, Harkness…?”_

_Right_ , Oliver agreed internally as he turned back to Felicity. “Where is he?”

“He's, um...trying to make his getaway by train,” the blonde replied, still clearly trying to process what it was she had just walked in on.

Oliver nodded and looked at Barry. The speedster tilted his head slightly.

“Can I give you a lift…?” he asked softly. “Save time?”

“Yeah,” the older man said gruffly, nodding to confirm his assent.

It was all the permission Barry felt that he needed to scoop the other man up and rush to the train station. For a while, Felicity stared at the empty space where the two men had stood, briefly contemplative before Roy, Cisco, and Caitlin joined her.

The distracting thoughts were altogether pushed out of her mind when a transmission from Barry came through minutes later, informing them of the situation with the bombs Captain Boomerang had planted in various places throughout Starling City. While the five of them worked together to find a solution to the problem, Oliver was biding his time with the boomerang wielder.

“Stop the countdown!” he demanded.

The other man chuckled. “Go to hell.”

“Last chance!” Oliver growled menacingly.

“Or what? You'll inflict pain?” Captain Boomerang asked with a grin as the Vigilante drew closer. “Ah, I can tell you've done it before. So let me ask you this—why are you hesitating?”

It was for Barry's sake, of course. Barry and the little moment that they had shared, where they'd been so close to _something_ , along with all the damn questions he now wanted to ask the younger man.

“Ten more seconds,” Captain Boomerang taunted. “We should be able to see at least, ah, three explosions from here.”

Oliver reacted immediately, reaching for an arrow in his quiver. Instinct dictated that he shoot the boomerang wielder on the spot, but the desire not to disappoint Barry any further won out, and so he held back.

 _“Come on, Barry...”_ Oliver thought to himself as he began the silent countdown in his head.

When he reached zero and didn't hear any explosions go off, Oliver mocked Captain Boomerang back with a silent yet condescending gesture, holding a hand to his ear and then giving the boomerang wielder a sarcastic salute. To which the other man bristled at the action.

“Oh...you think...you've accomplished something here?” he said, voice rising as he tried to instigate Oliver to react rashly. “You think you not killing me makes you strong?! It just means...you're _weak_.”

As if on cue, Oliver heard Barry rush in behind him. The older man didn't even need to turn around to know what expression the speedster was wearing on his face; one of fear and trepidation. Oliver felt he'd disappointed the younger man enough for one day.

“It _means_...I have some humanity left,” Oliver growled before turning his back to the boomerang wielder, daring the other man to spit on his generosity.

He didn't have to wait long. He heard the other man's movement and reacted before Barry could. In a swift movement, he turned and shot an arrow straight through Captain Boomerang's hand, pinning it to the space of the pillar above his head. The man groaned in pain.

Oliver turned to face Barry, unapologetic. Barry's mixture of amusement and fondness in his expression in response to Oliver's actions was somewhat unexpected.

“You just couldn't resist, could you?” the speedster asked.

Oliver merely half-smiled in response, and soon the two were on their way.

It took several days, the process of dealing with Captain Boomerang and taking shifts watching over Lyla. At some point in between, Oliver had slipped away and had a brief chat with Felicity. Neither discussed the recent development between himself and Barry, but Oliver knew he would one day have to provide the blonde with an explanation. For the moment, though, Felicity could tell that the Vigilante was still working out some of the details himself, and so she resolved to wait until Oliver felt ready to discuss it. In the meantime, the least she could do was fulfill Oliver's request and place an order on his behalf.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't the least bit jealous when she saw Oliver walk in with Barry later on that week. There was a twinge of pain felt in her chest as she watched Barry's face light up upon seeing a newly installed display case, complete with mannequin.

“What's this?”

“Oliver helped me put that in while you guys were at the hospital,” Felicity explained, perhaps a beat quicker than she would have liked.

“Wait, this is for me?” Barry said, looking at Oliver in awe.

“For...the next time you're in town,” Oliver said softly with a small smile, arms folded over his chest in a relaxed manner.

“There'll be a next time?” Barry asked, smile growing wider on his face.

“I'm still calling the shots,” said Oliver.

“We'll talk about that,” Barry said, smiling softly.

“Yes, we will,” Oliver said, chuckling lightly himself. “And then I'll call the shots.”

Barry looked at him and laughed. Felicity noted that Oliver was unable to keep the fondness out of his expression.

“You guys headed back?” Roy asked, shortly after Oliver received a gift from Team Flash.

His inquiry broke the mood a spell. Barry exhaled and looked away. He wasn't ready to go back to Central City just yet.

“It's...possible that Dr. Wells didn't sign off on us leaving town,” Caitlin said with a grimace.

Oliver was about to say something when Roy asked another question. This time, it had the effect it was meant to.

“Hey, do you still, like, take the train?”

Barry chuckled at that. “ Yeah, sure, if I feel like taking a nap,” he said. “But Oliver and I have some unfinished business to take care of first.”

Felicity tensed at that; however, seeing as how she was sure she was the only one who seemed to know that there was something more going on between the two superheroes, she didn't think anyone else would read too much into the speedster's statement.

“You guys aren't going to...punch each other, are you?” Caitlin asked.

A shared chuckle by speedster and Vigilante was the only response she received. Shortly thereafter, Barry and Oliver found themselves at an abandoned warehouse.

“You could have invited everybody,” Barry said as he walked alongside Oliver. “They'd like this.”

“Well, _no_ , they would love this, but this is just for the two of us,” said Oliver.

“You mean...the one of you,” Barry said, playfully “This was your idea.”

Oliver laughed. “ You can't expect me to believe that you don't want to know, once and for all, who would win — me or you.”

“You mean if you don't shoot me in the back,” Barry said, only half-joking.

“You got to get over that, Barry,” Oliver said, a shadow starting to cast over his face again.

“Okay, I have _super powers_ ,” Barry said, quickly trying to pick the mood back up again. “You have _arrows_ that _run out_.”

Fortunately, it worked, because Oliver quipped back. “ I have _strategy_ and tactical awareness.”

“When I'm fighting you, it's literally like you're standing still,” Barry deadpanned.

Oliver chuckled. “That's tough talk, you ready to back it up?”

“ _Oh yeah_ ,” Barry said with a smile. “Hey. By the way...”

“Yeah?” Oliver asked, turning to look at Barry, his cheerful expression once again starting to sober a little.

“You were wrong,” Barry said seriously. “When you told me I could inspire people, you said you couldn't. But you were wrong. You _can_ inspire. _Not_ as the Arrow...that guy's a douche.”

They both shared a small laugh at that. The speedster continued.

“But as Oliver Queen,” he said with a nod.

“Thank you,” said Oliver. “…since we're sharing, you were wrong, too.”

Barry frowned and shook his head. “When?”

“Right now,” Oliver said, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Because you think you can kick my ass. I can tell.”

“All right, well, if you think you can kick mine, you better do it fast,” the speedster replied with a smile as he watched the older man walk away from him.

“I get it, Barry, I get it,” said Oliver. “You're _fast_.”

Barry laughed softly and clapped his hands together, momentarily appreciating the loud echo of the sound that followed before zipping off to the opposite end of the warehouse.

“Ready…?!” Oliver shouted at him.

“Set…!” Barry called back.

 _Go_ , neither man said, and instead, Oliver quickly drew back his bow and fired several arrows in quick succession, which Barry easily intercepted. What was meant to be a serious sparring match between them quickly turned into something more of a playful dance. At some point, Barry faltered in his movements, allowing Oliver to grab hold of the speedster and slam him against a pillar.

For a moment, they stood there; breathing ragged. Neither man spoke. Oliver stared into Barry's eyes and the speedster calmly stared back.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, Barry whispered. “...what are we doing, Ollie?”

Oliver flicked out his tongue, wetting his lips nervously. He swallowed once before giving his response.

“We should probably talk,” he said. “About before. When you kissed me.”

“ _Haa_ …!” Barry grimaced. “Y-yeah...about that.”

As if afraid the speedster would slip away from him, Oliver kept his arm against Barry's chest; although there wasn't much pressure. The Vigilante brought his face a bit closer, carefully, so as not to startle the younger man.

“Why, Barry…?” he asked softly.

Barry half-smiled. “...you wouldn't believe me even if I told you.”

Confusion flickered in the older man's eyes, and then curiosity. Oliver's brows furrowed together in a slight frown.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

“I...” Barry started, before averting his gaze and then mumbling something that Oliver couldn't quite catch.

Oliver's frown deepened. “What?”

He placed a finger gently under Barry's chin and forced the younger man to meet his gaze. A light blush dusted the speedster's cheeks.

“I keep... _dreaming_ about you...” Barry said quietly, looking as if he wanted to desperately go and find a rock to hide under. “Sometimes when I'm asleep...other times, when I'm awake, only...”

“Only what, Barry…?” Oliver coaxed gently.

Barry closed his eyes and gulped. “Oh god... _promise_ you won't kill me after I tell you this…?”

Oliver exhaled. “Yeah.”

“...they don't really feel like _dreams_ ,” Barry said, slowly daring to open his eyes and face the older man again. “ They feel like...like they're _memories_.”

Oliver's frown returned. Barry chuckled weakly and gave a slight shrug of one shoulder, looking at Oliver with a sheepish expression.

“Sounds crazy, doesn't it?”

Oliver wet his lips again. “Only about as crazy as me telling you that I've been experiencing the same thing.”

It took a moment for his statement to sink in. When it did, Barry's eyes widened in surprise.

“W-wait... _what?!_ ” he exclaimed. “Y-you...you're…?”

“Saying that I've been seeing them too,” Oliver said with a nod. “Visions, memories...whatever you want to call them. Sometimes when I'm sleeping, other times not. Just like you. It's been driving me a little insane, if I'm going to be perfectly honest.”

“Ah...y-yeah...” said Barry. “M-me too...”

Oliver half-smiled. Feeling confident enough that Barry wouldn't run away from him now, he lifted his arm from the younger man's chest and moved to cup the speedster's face.

“You're just like this...” Oliver said, shaking his head slightly as he ran his thumbs gingerly against Barry's cheeks. “A bit skittish...nervous.”

Barry smiled meekly. “ I—well...this is _kind of_ new territory for me, right now...”

Oliver laughed. “Yeah...yeah, I guess you're right.”

The speedster's face heat up again when Oliver's lips hovered dangerously close to his own. “U-um…?”

“Can I kiss you again...Barry?” Oliver asked.

Barry's breath hitched. Blue eyes searched green, seeking permission. Finally, words failing him, Barry slowly nodded.

Much to his dismay and embarrassment, Barry let out a cross between a whimper and a moan when Oliver's lips pressed against his own. The connection was electrifying. The older man didn't need to do much coaxing for Barry to open his mouth and let Oliver's tongue probe his gently. The kiss seemed to last for at least a good minute, and a warm heat spread through both their shoulders as they did. When they finally broke away, Barry looked into Oliver's eyes, dazed.

“... _wow_ ,” he breathed softly.

Oliver chuckled and brushed some of Barry's hair back affectionately. He looked at the younger man for a good long moment, contemplatively.

“Barry...” he said.

“Mm…? Yeah?” Barry asked, looking at Oliver curiously.

“Your shoulder...” Oliver said. “Can I see it?”

Barry felt his face grow warm again and he lifted a hand absently to the shoulder bearing his soulmark. “I...”

“I just want to check something,” Oliver said gently. “...if it's all right with you.”

The romantic part of him that wanted to wait for true love warred with the little voice inside his head that demanded he give in to Oliver's request. Oliver's eyes searched his. Finally, Barry let out a short breath and nodded.

“Yeah...all right,” Barry said, licking his lips out of nervousness. “H-hang on...”

Oliver took a few steps back and gave Barry some room to maneuver partway out of his costume. The speedster turned around and slowly unzipped the front part of his costume and slipped out, shivering slightly when his top half became exposed to the cool air of the abandoned warehouse they were in.

The soulmark on Barry's shoulder was hard to miss—Oliver spotted it right away, and when he did, his breath caught in his throat. When he didn't say anything for a long time, Barry fidgeted nervously, shifting his weight on his feet.

“Um...Ollie?” Barry asked. “Are you...are you done looking?”

Oliver's response was to close the gap between them and turn Barry around, pushing him against the pillar once more. Barry hissed in surprise as his backside made contact with the cool surface. His eyes widened in even greater shock when Oliver suddenly enveloped his arms around Barry, embracing him. The older man spoke before Barry could ask.

“I can't explain it,” Oliver said. “Why our marks didn't burn, when we first met. Honestly, it doesn't make any sense...”

He shook his head and then pulled away slightly, looking Barry in his eyes again. “But none of that matters.”

His words sent Barry's mind reeling. The speedster looked at Oliver with a confused expression.

“What are you talking about, Ollie?” he asked.

Oliver laughed softly. “Our _soulmarks_ , Barry...” he whispered. “They _match_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who read the initial posting of this chapter, sorry about the crazy formatting errors that happened halfway through. I can never seem to figure out why sometimes AO3 flips out when I transfer text over from my word processor. It was doing so well recently that I thought it was fixed, but apparently I should have previewed the chapter before posting it. Lesson learned for next time, for sure.


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